Michael Beeson's Research

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measure temper exist

Measure temper exist

Beast. Good night. Sweet dreams. “We’ll have to sell her to the gypsies …” ‘That’s quite enough, Larney. Let me pass.’ I was on a short tether where he was concerned. It took no time at all to reach the end of it. “Tell him I still have work to do here,” Charitye said from her tiptoes, loud enough for her dad to hear. I don’t know what to make of this. I’ve known my aunt for thirty years and have never seen her like this. Yet isn’t that what they say a person is? New sides until the very end. Now the balls have stopped spinning and the hands of the clock stand in place. Not a tick is heard in anything that measures time. What is audible is the rhythm of the sea, how it strikes the land, forward and back, always at the same pace, forever amen, until time comes to an end. Don’t think that we sit idly in the beyond. I’ve earned my driver’s license, dear. I really could use the practice. It’s good to be able to take the wheel down here on earth. “I’ve been in hundreds of films like that and I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve done or anybody I’ve known.” The film began with tiny clips of me getting fucked in a dozen different ways. My heart was racing with panic but I made myself stay there and watch. Come on, then, I say as I open the gate. If it helps you feel better, you should paint, says Hei?ur. They pedaled their undersize bikes like bears at the circus, and the wind carried their laughter. An hour later they had finished the peculiar grave that Jahoska had asked Winters to dig years earlier, a slanted hole that put his feet three feet deeper than his head, which itself was to be only a forearm’s depth from the surface. Rhonda’s Beauty Salon was on Pico a few blocks east of Hauser. Rhonda was petite and mannish, black haired and blue eyed, tender and giggly — she was a white woman raised among black people, a ninety-pound weakling who never went anywhere without a razor somewhere close at hand. I still have a chance to go to school. Can that be? I turned my attention to his set of keys and went through them one by one, deliberating over the features of each in turn as if they were suspects on an identity parade. There were thirty or so keys threaded onto a large ring and none of them looked familiar. It was going to take a while to find the right one. She looked hard at him. After he graduated from medical school Neelo had his accountant set up a private insurance plan for girls in the business. The primary five got special treatment. We were all his aunts. Between Hei?ur and me, the Dock Wood account is a horror story, but I cooked it up for Edda in such a way that it became a harmless thriller in which a broken arm is just added spice. The child retold it to her pack of teddy bears and girlfriends missing their front teeth. “Move aside,” Perry Mendelson said to my dead husband’s friend..