Sunday, August 05, 2012

Two types of palatial blankness: a small, internal pleat. For a month or two over summer on Elderfield Road I would catch myself thinking the words ‘pleurer pleurer pleurer’ over and over again. I noticed no corresponding desire to cry. Now I find myself rewatching a murmur of redlipsticked receptionists gliding about the workplace in my mind. Each receptionist calls herself Grace, taking the name of their more beautiful leader. Pleurer, pleurer, pleurer: glide, glide, glide.