|
| Readers Nuggets: |
| From The Scum Also Rises (by Ernest Flemingway), here mangled beautifully by, yes, Jon Brierley. Posted: 14th Jan 2003 |
Jack Schitt was sitting in the bar. It was a good bar. He had a whisky. It
was good whisky. "Goddamn, this is good whisky," he said. His half brother Brik came in. "Have a whisky," Jack said. "It's good whisky." "Goddamn," said Brik. They drank. "Damn this Thursday Next," Brik said. "Yeah, goddamn her," said Jack. "I could make the earth move with her, though." "Yeah, that'd be good," Brik said. "Goddamn right." They drank some more. "Where is she?" Jack said. "I don't know," Brik said. "Maybe she's dead." Jack thought about this. "Goddamn, no," he said. "She's not dead." Brik took a drink. "How d'you know?" he said. "I feel it," Jack said. "She's somewhere." "Goddamn it to hell," Brik said. "I saw her go into a book." Jack looked at him. "Into a book?" "Yeah, right into a goddamn book." "Which one?". "Damned if I know." They drank some more whisky. "If we knew which book she jumped into, we could maybe find her," Jack said. "That sentence was too long," Brik said. "This isn't Henry goddamn James." "Sorry." "Damn right." They sat drinking. The whisky was still good. "Even if we knew," Brik said. "Goddamn Prose Portal's broke." "Goddamn Mycroft." "Goddamn right." "The thing is," Jack said, "She's a woman." "She's a goddamn woman all right." "Who knows, with a woman?" "Yeah." "I don't know." "Damn, no." "A gun, you know." "Damn right." "You can know a gun." "That's so." "But a woman - " Jack shook his head. "Goddamn," he said. They drank some more whisky. Whisky was good. |