Friday, August 8, 2008

smoking tids and, yes, bits

Kevin has taken his Elvis picture (which I really liked) and a little nothing picture I painted out of my room to keep safe in a little grove at the back of the garden. the absence of those things makes me redo my room.

i look for another place to work also in the sprawly open space (but I don't know where K's secret place is. (LR? hints?). I run into a giant spiderweb and lots of other people from the neighborhood.

some whole long bit about teenagers trying to steal the ford with me right there but they are stuck in traffic and I can't get any one to help. I walk around the car, call 911 and get phone trees and salesmen.

the whole place I live and work (which appears to be a school) is burning. It's been burning for awhile and I guess we don't care. We are upstairs at De Ville Ct. having a kind of dull party and looking through photographs.

I leave. there's some long bit about what sweats I'm wearing and a stack of old paintings on paper tucked into something I need to move. Some were gifts. Some I'd completely forgoten. The building is still burning. It's late Friday afternoon and the firemen are about to quit for the weekend. I call up to Reinhard, "There is a fire we need to put out."

The firetruck speeds passed without doing anything. The inside beams of the building are now orange.

I think I might have to do it myself, dressed in flannel one piece sweats (am I a victim, Freud?) and a light blue sequined bra I accidentally stole - an heirloom from my grandma to Juliet. Then Reinhard and some friends come down. He calls me a bad name and is shocked at some photos he found that I took - he thinks in Austria, but they are the Vermont photos (tough, yes - shocking, no). Anyway, I am the scandal. At least now maybe that building will be saved.

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