In my mind, a mash up of Tim O'Brien and Raymond Carver due to my students'....shall we say turbid prose? But also, I want to say torpid. In any case, it's a mess in there (my brain) and I blame students.
How did the blind man carry a rucksack full of mosquito repellent? How did Ted Lavender draw a cathedral with no pencils? Why did they all smoke so much pot? And is it easier to see the cathedral if you shut your eyes? There's your moral.
In a few days time, she wrote, it would be fall break. And then there would be sparkling wine,and cocktails. All the comforts afforded those who could purchase them. But first there would be midterms to grade, and then a few more papers, and a test to write. Then after that, she would make a sweet potato cake, as consistent with the season, and perhaps there would be mulled wine, with cinnamon and little cloves and also some orange. And then there might be coffee, some with whiskey and certainly there would be red wine, for it came in bottles and she knew where to get those.
So in the coming days, there would be comfort, but for now it was a motherfucking cathedral war inside her brain which was, admittedly, small.