Reading to Myron Stout

The windows were frosted and the room laid large and heavy. In all its width and depth, the walls were close and scarred, shreds of paper flittering in the wash of central heating. Against the walls, tarp covered working tables. In the middle of the concrete floor sat an old Myron Stout and me. Even under the down of blasting heaters, he clutched a red plaid blanket over his knees. Mr. Stout only required that I speak softly and keep away visitors; he touched me sometimes, but only to remember . Today I was reading from Camus' L'Étranger. I read and read, acting out parts by making my voice gruff like too many cigarettes.

He looked perturbed until he rose and stumbled over to the studio's basin and wrenched the tap until droplets of water stopped plopping from the faucet. I hadn't noticed their tinny voices. He hobbled back and huffed into a wooden chair. He looked like h e wanted to speak, so I folded a bright green ribbon into the pages of the book. He just sat, breathing through his teeth. His eyes stared intently, but it bothered me that the gaze passed just to my left, as if their attentions laid on the lobe of my ear .

"Victoria, please hand me the clay," he said, wringing his dense fingers until they turned purple and the veins stood like intestinal worms. I moved to a makeshift table of board and saw horses and pried the lump of clay from its suction on the coarse wood. I wrapped it in a wet cloth and led his fingers to it.

"Read on, Victoria, we have quite a story to resolve before you can stop." I began to read to him from the French:

"I waited. The heat was beginning to scorch my cheeks; beads of sweat were gathering in my eyebrows. It was just the same sort of heat as at my mother's funeral, and I had the same disagreeable sensations-- especially in my forehead, where all the veins seemed to be bursting through the skin."

I looked at his hands, and their veins, tearing into the pale flesh, molding its new body into a skull that lacked substance like the pitiful half-life of an excavated Egyptian prince. He still focused not at me but my ear.

"I couldn't stand it any longer, and took another step forward. I knew it was a fool thing to do; I wouldn't get out of the sun by moving on a yard or so. But I took that step, just one step, forward. And then the Arab drew his knife and held it up toward me, athwart the sunlight..."

"He shot him, you know Victoria, because the sun bothered him into madness. Oh, you know the story-- everyone knows this story: too many pulls of the trigger, one just as innocent as the other... Et c'était comme quatre coups brefs que je frappais sur la porte du malheur."

As he quoted the words that hurried book one to its end, he pressed his thumbs deep into the eye sockets of the shrunken head in his palms.

"He thought he had vision and control and a stable life, but he was separated from the real stability of convention. He should have cried, he should have mourned, and he should only have emptied only one round from the little pistol."

"Move closer to me and let me feel skin instead of this clay. You were formed from this smelly stuff,you know, carved from bogs."

His hands were chalky where the clay had dried and slick where wet. I removed my shirt and let him run his crusty thumb from my neck to where my belt cinched. He kneaded me until I noticed the lumps of my spine and the wings in my back.

"Continue to read softly, Victoria. I need your droning to filter out the silence." I continued reading with my back towards him. He startled me with newly wet palms.

"I see you Victoria. I see you are clay. I see you formed at random by erosion. You are like clay from a kiln. A vase heated from within. I couldn't see you on canvas, rendered with a brush. I would need to layer the acrylic on too thick and keep it soft for it to be you. If Rodin were blind, his work would have not only rendering but give."

I turned to look over my shoulder at the clay and there stood a squat arch, its silhouette like a wide-mouthed flower urn. It glistened from newly applied water. There was no rendering of the stutter-bumps of my back, or its wings. Only the smooth reduct ion of width from just below the armpits to the waist. That and the slouched arch of posture.

You've stopped reading, Victoria. Have you begun to doze off? I would like to hear your awkward French open the jailer's door for poor Meursault."

I continued reading until I heard his breathing deepen into sleep. I then left.

©18.1.1993 Chris Abraham

Trackback URL for this post:

http://www.caveatlector.com/trackback/75

beastiality and furry stories

rate my ass

super huge tits

moms who give blowjobs

how do women cum

free gay rape video

free latina lesbian videos

black men fucking mature white women

mary kate nip slip

strap on domination

nude spring break pictures

raven symone big breast

anal fisting girls free

scat fisting fun teen blowjob

sexy brunette ass

torture and whipping young gay

bikini voyeur thongs

big sausage pizza stephanie

girls masterbating with vibrators

incest sex stories

18 weeks pregnant

celebrities with small breasts

herfirstbigcock

blow job

son fucks his own mother

free animal xxx

teen masturbation

asian mature sex

mature gangbang gallery kiss lesbian teen

free forced lesbian

mom teaches daughter fuck

anal fuck

young anal

hentai de teen titans

free changing room voyeur

pictures of women using vibrators

dad and daughter sex video

guys jacking off video

girls peeing in diapers

girls fucking horses clips

big black women with asses

privatevoyeur

beast sex searchgals

mother daughter lesbians

incest xxx

threesome porn movies

nude latina galleries

free forced orgasm videos

lesbian pink

hot latino women nude

forced sex free movie

her frist lesben sex

size of horse penis

xxx comics free

girls pooping in toilets

black fat girls porn

fucking with pregnant woman son fucking his own mom

black girls having sex with animals

black girls fucking black girls men jerking off straight men

free videos of girls taking a shit

free shit eating video girl shitting in public

hunks on the beach

free young nude art camel toes on girls

free sex web camera

free amateur fuck video women and sex with horses

white chicks black guys

mom and daughter incest porn cute girls bound gagged

free teen rape stories

big booty club clips young gay teen porn

teen boy and girl sex

post op transexual sex forced to fuck videos

hot girls fucking horses

hot teen muscle boys i am only 12 but have very large tits

girls and dogs xxx

dirty latina maids jennifer free latina blowjob movies

free nude teen models

how to deep throat blow job

serena williams fat ass mom and daughter video

drunk naked girls passed out

home made masturbation toys drunk nipple slip pics

mating horses video clips

horse fucking women video

free shemale jerking movies