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02 November 2006 @ 10:00 pm
...for a seller of stoves  
Today we bought a new stove (to replace the waterlogged old one) from a man selling all sorts of electrical items out of a shop on Belleville. I entered with a rose, and was immediately transfixed by a wall of televisions broadcasting video-clips of East-European pop ballads - all close-ups of teeth, doves and hair in slow motion. But I snapped out of my reverie in time to take the stove from the salesman: it was the display item that he sold us, wrapped in nothing more than an oversized plastic bag. Our hands fumbled over themselves as he passed on the bag. Then, when the transaction was over, I gave the man a rose. At that moment a little person who had been hovering beside the counter burst into shrill laughter that kept reverberating as we walked out of the store.
karmic_circuit on November 2nd, 2006 06:49 pm (UTC)
I really feel that this can't be said enough: you have such a poetic, lyrical style. I love the rhythm and cadence in your sentences.

I find myself stopping in the electronics section of stores all the time, just to watch the walls of TVs--flat screens, plasma screens, giant box sets, tiny travel-sized numbers--all playing the same thing. The same image showing on each screen, in different sizes and dimensions and colors.
thiel on November 2nd, 2006 06:53 pm (UTC)
The TV-walls are entrancing, I agree, especially when they're playing the kinds of things I was watching this afternoon. This one particular woman's hair just kept spinning and spinning.

Thank you for these nice comments about my writing - it's wonderful to know that people like you are enjoying this.