Wed 14 Jul
∞ Permalink
The world had gone quiet around me. The deafness fell like a heavy snow. Slow and steady. Since then I have been waiting for the crunch of footsteps to join me. Using my senses in an unconscious way. And I always hold a silver micrometer (rhymes with thermometer). If I’ve had enough to drink, it gets dropped in a pocket. Then a little more to drink and out it comes again.
I heard those footsteps. I turned my head and you were there. At that party. I was the one who’s date was a micrometer.
—
Bill Callahan, Letters to Emma Bowlcut
Try reading that and not hear Callahan’s voice singing it. Just try.
