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1 March 2001


fierce editing.

-- from Intimations

"I hear people say 'Jane sure is calm and relaxed,' 'Jane really is cool under fire,'" Lincoln said. "Bullshit. You get caught and you freeze. Not unlike soon-to-be venison in the headlights of an oncoming Peterbilt. You haven't a rational bone in your body. You panic, and then you freeze. You try not to make any waves. Then you respond as though nothing happened. Look, now you're just staring at me."

A long beat.

"Are you quite finished?" asked Jane.

"Thank you very much for proving my point," Lincoln said.

The entire walk home from Middle Wishes, Lincoln had been trying to bait Jane into an argument. To assuage his own guilt for having gone inside, and to accuse her of an unpardonable breach of due consideration. Lincoln expected Jane to tell him everything, but was beginning to realize the sheer volume of things he simply did not know about her. As they approached the door, Jane unlatched the bolt and opened the door, stepping inside and into the kitchen with Lincoln bobbing, frustrated, in her silent wake.

musings of señor prod.

Doing the things The Revolution can.

 

©2001 Timothy A. Clark -|-