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@buzzquotes-blog
There was an empty bottle there for every day he had been in America, six months’ worth of drunken sunsets. Like memories themselves, most were shattered and mixed with other fragments, but every so often, for whatever reason, one remained intact, whole and perfect, so that to run his finger over the surface would eventually lead back to where he started.
But nothing changes in a portrait except how we look at ourselves and she came to call the time after her husband’s death My Faceless Existence—a heavy bit of English for someone who barely spoke the language.
Money made him merry.
It was considered in my sister’s best interest that she not see her father reduced to this shell of his former self, so Jerry took her from the waiting room to the parking lot where he presented her with a Christmas gift. She looked at the grimly illuminated hospital, trying to guess which window was his. Jerry made her inflate a balloon and attached it to the toy. When he let go, the air from the deflating balloon powered a propeller which caused it to ascend. She showed no interest or gratitude in the whirligig. He deduced girls were not very scientific.
The nurses did their best to spruce up the antiseptic corridors but the smell of pine boughs was overpowered by Pine Sol and no one paused beneath the mistletoe on the contagious ward.
You lose what you gain.
Heaven or Hell is in how you choose to remember and nothing changes faster than the past.
Thirty years is a long time but booze is forever.
“Computers!” he said. “Computers. Computers, computers.” That was his advice, but every time he said computers I thought of Dedi’s paintings, the political prisoner test subjects bathed in light designed to nourish but which couldn’t, their eyes wide, bright, and vacant. They starved without ever feeling hungry, sated by an illusion that kept them from fighting back. It’s the same with computer people today. I distrust their evangelical fervor, the myopic missionary zeal that has them convinced they’re doing us Luddite savages a favor. They can’t see why anyone would refuse the miracle.
School came easy as long as it was rote, which most of it was. The teachers had the answers in the backs of their books. They gave it to us, then we were graded on how well we gave it back.
Do insects sleep? Do they dream? Can flies even close their eyes? Do they blink? Jerry claimed they did and said he waited for them. “Anticipate the blink!” he said before striking with the spring-loaded swatter he’d invented. He even had it patented but lost interest when it came time to market it. I never saw him miss.
No one dies where they’re born anymore.
All three had arrived on the same flight, just in time to be fêted as political refugees at the Czech-American Society Thanksgiving Dinner in Queens where Eva rose to the occasion with a speech she’d been rehearsing privately for months. The audience was so stirred they took up a collection, most of which disappeared in the four weeks after to partway meet my father’s metastasizing medical bills.
No doubt about it, America was the best country. I didn’t understand why it didn’t just take over the rest of the world and make everybody happy.
"You can’t get further away from Washington than Florida,” he says. For him the world ends at the U.S. border.
Peeling shoulders were trophies of the beach. Sunburn was healthy because it replaced old skin leaving you smooth and new as a baby. He told me I would grow bigger faster, like a snake shedding its skin, as I squirmed in bed unable to sleep. Those burnt-back nights I’d stay up late playing Life with my sister. She alone had read the fine print on the board game’s inside cover and knew all the rules (and how, as banker, to gracefully break them). She filled red convertible with pink pegs leaving blue husband waiting in white mansion on green hill where her gold path inexorably led.
Get it in writing! was almost all the English she knew. That and, Don’t trust anybody! Her legacy to me.