Sunday, April 24, 2011

WRITING

The tire exploded and my creepy

little hand started wiggling its fingers

wildly

and then stopped


Never say very much. Don’t say that you replaced the bicycle tire on its rim and that it wasn’t seated properly and so an hour later it exploded. And don’t explain that the sweet old man with the little grey beard gave you a creepy mechanical hand that was battery operated and commenced to wiggle every time there was a vibration in the room like a bicycle tube exploding and that you kept it in the room with your bicycle because your little son, who the sweet old man gave it to, thought it too creepy. If you take all of that out and just write what is left, you have a nice little image that can stay in sight for a minute, and then disappear like a wispy white cloud in the sky until all the fingers stop wiggling.

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