Trust Exercise: A Novel

Wife of the great man, she could only exist in reaction to him.

We almost never know what we know until after we know it.

Possibly first love, despite all the fuss, is only mating with ideas attached.

They had bleached it, shaved it, permed it, dyed it, as girls do when vandalizing themselves seems the best way of proving their bodies are theirs.

The obvious and the oblivious sharing the same mental space.

Of course one feels and one knows what one feels and at the same time is master of feeling, not slave; feeling is the archive upon which we draw, but the archive has doors or perhaps it has drawers, it’s got storage, an index, the metaphor for the archive of feelings has been lost on Sarah but she gets the idea. You’re fucked if it isn’t in order.

“You wanted me to go after her and make her feel better, and tell her we still were best friends. And I did, even though I was lying. And now I have to keep lying because she thinks that we’re best friends again.”