Saturday, August 12, 2006
New Beginning 68
Until the lawyer had tracked Joe Morrissey down, in L.A., to tell him that his entire life had changed when they found Magnolia Morrissey's body, in the driver's seat of her white Lincoln, at the bottom of High Point Lake, he had never heard of his Aunt Magnolia. But when Joe hung up the phone in the back of the bar on Melrose, on a unusually humid afternoon in early April, he didn't know that, yet —about the body, or the Lincoln, or that he had ever had an aunt, or even that his life had just been taken by the ear and been wrenched around, pushed squarely between the shoulder blades and sent stumbling in an entirely new direction. Just that the inheritance was sizeable.
Sizeable was a solid word, a dependable one, and it meant something out here. It was a word you could sink your teeth into, like a filet mignon cooked medium rare, where the pink blood ran along your tongue and over your lips, spilling out on to your chin, making the woman in the small black dress across the table want to lick it from the stubble that had appeared on your chin since you'd shaved in the morning, at about seven thirty. Filmy little hairs.
Filmy was a flimsy word, unreliable, and nonsensical in that context.
Opening: Jen.....Continuation: Pacatrue