Jun 21, 2025
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After each bell chimes, in the space between each peal A silence will descend, a quiet then arrives, And at that very moment, in this singular while, The crowd grows complacent, a congregation forgets to care. Yet still we shall continue, even so we carry on, Hoping chime to chime, praying peal to peal, For some kind of salvation, a sort of rescue from The fantastic in league against us, the ghosts who plot our end.
from "The Fantastic in League Against Us" part 2, by Green Vincentine
image: Leah Frances
He played the song a second time, using what may have been his last quarter. Then he returned to their booth and offered commentary, as always.
“That one line makes “Sugar Sugar” an example of pure song craft, not just another track for the yesteryear jukebox.”
“What line?” she asked, stirring her Bloody Mary with the pickled okra.
He folded his arms. “It goes ‘I just can’t believe the loveliness of loving you.’ That part.”
“Loveliness, loving? Sounds redundant,” she said, feigning disapproval.
“Well, yeah, and that’s where the craft emerges,” he countered. “It’s the poetry of repetition. It’s satisfying because the word instantly returns to us in another form.”
“You mean like a Walker Percy repetition?”
“No, I mean like alliteration repetition,” he sighed. “And also like the repetition I just explained, before I had to, you know, repeat it.”
“Aren’t you clever?” she replied. “But you’re in way too deep with a song that, correct me if I’m wrong, is categorized as bubblegum by listeners far and wide. The whole thing is one long, very sweet repetition. Not much happens at the end that we didn’t get at the start.”
“And you’re not in deep enough with a song you declared a favorite, once upon a time,” he said. “Nothing new happens with bubblegum when we chew it either. We crave that same flavor. No one unwraps Super Bubble hoping it will taste different this time.” He was especially pleased that thunder lazily rumbled during this exchange. Rain began splattering on the sidewalks outside the bar, slinging those fat drops that only a summer shower offers. It was hard to know how long it might last. Either Royal Street would get a true cleansing or the curbs would run as black as ever.
“I do love it,” she admitted, perking up. “I’m almost positive they play “Sugar Sugar” every time it rains. Or maybe it was raining every time I ever really listened.”
“Sort of a repetition, if I may be so bold?” he returned, adding a soft smile to make certain she knew he wasn’t mocking her now.
“I knew it!” she whispered in delight, as though a conspiracy had been uncovered. “Let’s hear it again before the rain stops. And get another Bloody Mary for me. It’s perfect in here right now, just like last time. Can you believe it?”
He plunked another quarter—there was always another quarter—into the juke slot and then waved to their server.
“Yes, I certainly can believe it. I just can’t believe the loveliness.”
from Yesterday Again Green Vincentine
She leaned across the table and rolled the cuff of my sleeve perfectly into place. It was a favorite ritual.
“Magic is not supposed to be “real,” I continued. “Reality lacks the elemental foundation for becoming fully magical, therefore it offers limited experience. Magic is supposed to be experienced. There are no other requirements.”
“Why so formal?” she asked. “Are you talking to me or teaching?” she added, turning away, but only enough so that her sly smile remained in evidence to anyone who had memorized the contours of her jawline.
“Fair enough,” I returned. “But you know I’m a believer. I get a big charge out of the signs and wonders and so do you. I hate the phonies and the hustlers and the bullshit psychics in Jackson Square, but aren’t we happiest when we suspect the invisible world is having its way? Don’t pretend to be mystified just because you’re mystified. It’s the experience we’re after, not lab results.”
“You used to make fun of my good luck charms,” she said. “I bet you don’t even know I still keep that coin in my bag. Next to the photo of you in our old car. And that keychain you bought me from the trashy souvenir shop on Royal, the day you fell on the sidewalk in the rain running to catch us a cab. They remind me of your sweet moments, so I can be patient when you’re uptight and formal. Or maybe they just remind me to adjust your shirt cuffs.”
“How about that.” I said. “Those very tangible keepsakes influence an intangible emotion, and you respond with the tangible. What is this thing called love?”
“No, professor,” she mocked again. “I’m not saying they cause things to happen. They just make me feel like something is happening.”
I missed my chance to ask if there was a difference.
She was two seconds ahead of me anyway, already joyously pondering the conclusion she originally planned to refute. This little scene was never an argument to start with. We were celebrating a shared and cherished notion by pretending to doubt, and then agreeing to be on our best empirical behavior so as not to trouble friends and colleagues. It was our brief nod to the non-believers, offered while winking at each other. This ritual was its own magic, which required no profession of faith from either of us.
from Yesterday Again Green Vincentine
image: Leah Frances
day 6(?) of things that made me smile:
STARDEW VALLEY ALL DAY. CHEESECAKE. JUNK FOOD. PICNIC IN BED. YES YES YES YES YES. GAMER MODE. I JUST GOT TO FALL YEAR 1. ONLY PLAYED FOR 2 DAYS. FUCK YEAH.
offputting enough to never be in a relationship but not offputting enough for people to not ask when i'll finally be in one
Strawberries and Watermelon - 180kcal
GF Oreos - 102kcal
Babybel - 62kcal
Donner Kebab - 1200kcal
Total: 1544kcal
