Title: Willow
Author:
Date: 13 Oct 14 (Monday in the PM)
Copyright:
Time: Less than a minute
Replies: 9
Revisions: 2
Publicity: Workshop
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Baudelaire leaped high up to the window sill and brushed his nose along the prism hanging in the sunlight, suddenly jerking his head after the reflections dancing around the room.

Memory is a kind of loyalty.

Revisions

Horse » April 22, 2015 @ 14:30:54 [Current Revision]
Horse » October 13, 2014 @ 12:27:19
Horse » October 13, 2014 @ 12:14:34

The Thread (9)

 Author's voice in grey. 

  1. Nice, and quite visual for its subtlety. Also very personal, though I was privy.

    Memory is the loyalty. At a point inevitable — stone — what else is there?

  2. I also like the titling of the piece in nonfiction, and the writing of it in fiction.

  3. Memory betrays us all, early and often. We may be loyal to it, but it’s a one way street.

  4. It’s evidence of our loyalties — the best and perfect, I contend. Nearly if not totally synonymous.

  5. Willow keeps Rooster’s prose poet Baudelaire theme steady.

  6. He was a good man, that cat. He had a Yoda-like quality all felines seem to achieve in old age.

  7. I’d substitute “some” for “all”.

  8. Old cats must be wise, or they don’t get old.

  9. This sentence has an unusual, wheeling shape. The idea of “memory” at the end casts itself all over the place — like the marks of a prism. Is the memory the cat’s? Or the entity that sees the cat do this thing? Or does memory have to do with Baudelaire, whom the cat is named after?

    In a wonderful interview on YouTube, James Baldwin says something about evanescence in fiction — how having something “on the wing” makes all the difference in making a line of text feel real, feel authentic.

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