chase scenes serial #2
no, the uncomfortably hot water in the hot tub, slowed down my circulation. My extremities are lethargic. My right hand is frisky at the moment as it writes, but my feet and toes feel etherized propped upon the coffee table in our room. As I floated on my back in the pool I pulled my ears beneath the water to tune out the roughhousing children and the little girl who was afraid to get in. I held air in my chest. The train is coming by now. Which train? Burlington Northern Santa Fe. It went by four (4) times while we walked around Bismarck. Good god it sounds as though it is bearing down on our room! There, the whistle has passed. Saved by the Doppler effect, or at least alerted to my salvation. In fact the train is across the parking lot, and across a creek, a murky tan coloured creek‡. The water is opaque, perhaps it is filled with peanut butter syrup. Later. Earlier? The ceiling above the pool was wood, there were deep glu-lam beams. It was an indoor pool, obviously. I thought back to that pool at Mammoth Mountain, although as I floated I thought more about how I slept on the floor of a walk-in closet in our chalet, there were so many of us. I lay in there eating VONS brand Cheerios and listening to Burzum’s ‘Hysset Vis tar Oss’ or whatever, and Sort Vokter’s ‘Folkloric Necro-Metal’ and reading Swann’s Way. That was in 2000, January 2000.
