Wednesday, October 28, 2009

a writer's dream

she is alone. it seems like days since he left. or is it minutes? but no. he didn't leave. she sent him away. threw him out harshly with three gentle words. let me be. she needed to be. alone. to think. to concentrate. to remember. why they had done it. why she had fought him. he'd known better but hadn't argued. well maybe once. hadn't challenged though. hadn't complained. it happened like this.

she said I want this house. the house the agent said hasn't been occupied for years. the house the agent said is food for inspiration. a writer's dream. he said but babe this house is old. look at the peeling paint. the small windows you can hardly see inside. and a gable. who lives in houses with gables anymore? she said please can we look one more time? she said it with a look in her eyes. a look that said and don't argue with me because i've already decided. but then softened the look with i feel it inside. i can write here. i'm inspired. and he silent.

he listens.

takes the key out of his inside coat pocket with trembling hands. inserts it inside the lock. and twists. twists saying are you all right babe? you seem so far away. and she with chattering teeth saying i'm perfectly fine. words gunned from lips so blue in the winter cold. her mind saying yes. her heart saying wait. don't go. and he opening the door. slowly. maybe she will change her mind. and she stepping over the threshold and entering a place without life without living without breakfast or lunch or dinner at the kitchen table with baby tessa crawling around her feet and nibbling at her ankles. a place without.


a chair. a table. a tray with a teacup and teapot and the tea still steaming. a rocking chair still rocking with a shawl smelling of attar spread upon its arm. and he looking with disbelief. and she going to the stairs. climbing the stairs that creak. crack. beneath her feet. and he following. saying this is absurd. but climbing behind her still. and she walking down the corridor. to the big bedroom at the end. their bedroom. and opening the door squealing on rusty hinges. going to the tarnished brass bed like one pulled by invisible hands. sitting on the rotted mattress in the half light seeping through windows stained with age. and he still with her. with her watching the door closing shut with a padded thud. and she shaking shivering wrapping herself in the reeking blanket old and torn and yellowed by time. and he saying will you be all right babe? and she saying let me be. and he thinking he will leave her for a while. he thinking while the snow slaps the windows leaving weeping trickles.

and did she imagine what had happened next?

did she imagine the steadily dripping pipes sweeping water into the corridor and dribbling gray floods over the stairs and onto the rocking chair still rocking and the teapot still steaming below? did she imagine the rattling furnace in the basement vibrating strange mutterings incomprehensible but stark? did she imagine the mice with eyes like tiny inkpots and grins on their chins when caught in her traps? did she imagine the drip of stinking rainwater seeping through the ceiling and onto the floor of her baby tessa's room? did she imagine baby tessa in her crib swinging violently and baby crying in the dark and her running like a madwoman to baby tessa's cribside to find her sound asleep her face polished and serene like a porcelain doll's? and the dreams. did she imagine them too?
dreams of hands purple hands grasping in the dark
dreams of hearts scarlet hearts beating bursting bleeding
dreams of shadows lead shadows embracing broken floors
sleeping dreams haunting
waking dreams haunting more.

she knows what she knows but will not speak. will not ask him back and tell. he would say i told you babe didn't i?

but he returns. for a spell. and he knows. looks with accusing glances at the doors and walls and floors. and she. wrapped in the mist. wrapped in her chamber of shadows and shapes and smells of things watching waiting following seeking. wanting. her. unbuttoning. her dress. button. by. button. with slimy fingers from beneath and beyond. and she the modest girl of long ago now with arms bound above her head
chest imposed
breasts exposed
legs spread wide like a she-lion in heat giving it all away shamelessly
and hearing baby tessa's cries
again and again and again
trying to get up and go to the door but the hands holding her pulling her back to the bed and into the waiting arms and their companions clinging with a plushness undeniable inviting promising delights indescribable and luxurious while baby tessa screams with shrill voice like nails pounding into her eardrums but she unable to abandon the brushing upon her chest upon her breasts of tiny
not two
not five
five hundred scurrying flitting tickling teasing and the inelegant succulent heat between her legs heat not like the stillness of desert and sand but like the drumming of tropic and storm heat rising accelerating to the final crash.
and he. paralyzed. deaf. dumb. blind. but still. listening to the clipped utterings of pleasure she had once reserved for his love. her mouth fizzing. bubbling. foaming. and he. staring into her eyes that he can barely see through the mist floating around her over her into her. and she. within it sunken in unfettered indulgence while held slightly upright by those unseen hands.

and he seeing inside her sublimated world in which the mist reigns.
in which he no longer exists.


  1. Ive been away all glad yours was one of the first blogs I visited upon my return...wonderful and captivating as always.

  2. You have an incredible mind. No one else could have authored anything as good as that. I mean it sincerely!


  3. Nevine, your writings are incredible! Such imagination and creativity. I feel as though I'm there in your stories, feeling the experience. I also wish to thank you for visiting me often, leaving your kind encouragement... I appreciate you.

  4. great definitely took an unexpected turn, which i liked. it was a bit spooky, well done.

    poor baby tessa...

    much love

  5. The story runs so smoothly that I didn't even notice when it finished until I reached the last word. Several reasons why your creative flow is so rich, in my view:

    You write in lower case, thus allowing the reader to become comfortable with your prose. You also leave out verbs and punctuation marks strategically occasionally - I think -, which forces the reader to fill up the space of your ellipsis, hence the reader, far from being passive, is active. You choose subjects that start internally and only use external objects as props to help move the narrative forward, as opposed to using them as the core of your story (lazy writers do the latter a lot).

    All in all, I look forward to your tales, to your bouts of inspiration. Since I began visiting your blog recently I have come across someone who is not just capable of writing good, cogent and coherent stories, but is not afraid to experiment. It's funny that what Zadie Smith mentioned this week in the series I have been posting, about entering an author's imaginary world, is happening with you simultaneously. Keep up the good work.

    Many thanks.

    Greetings from London.

  6. Steven - Welcome back! I was starting to worry... Thanks so much for stopping in. I'm happy you enjoyed...

    Secretia - I'm so flattered by your comment I just don't know what to say. Just know that I very much appreciate it, as I do you. Thank you.

    Dream Dancer - It always makes me smile to know my readers feel they are "there". I try to create a sense of reality in the fantasy that I weave, and I'm so glad that comes through. And by the way, I enjoy visiting you a great deal. It's grounding and humbling, and always makes me think.

    Stacey - I played with that unexpected turn a bit; wasn't sure I wanted to go there, at first. But a touch of spook with a touch of sex seemed like good partners for the purposes of this round.

    Cuban - It is always the internal that haunts me, in reality and fiction both. So, I do focus on the characters more than on any other aspect of what I write. I often ask myself if this is a good or a bad thing. But I have to be true to myself. And if my psyche is screaming with anguish or joy for my characters, then that is what I will express. Your comment about entering my imaginary world is something I treasure and appreciate immensely. Thank you, Cuban.


  7. you're quite the storyteller. you had me engrossed...

  8. It's very there. Hovering somewhere between stream of consciousness and more traditional third person storytelling. And you fall deeper into the moment and the sensation as the character's mind plunges. So very effective and captivating. I'd definitely follow this character onward in a larger story. There's a quiet confusion and rebellion in her pain.

  9. Nevine, this is a brilliant experimental piece. I must say wow! And... chapeau!

  10. I was captured by your story.
    I loved the spooky feel.
    hugs hugs

  11. Holy shit Nevine. I'm like, actually I don't even know what I'm like.

    Scary, amazing, hard, evil.


    Love Renee xoxo

  12. Wow. You're an awesome writer. Are you compiling all this stuff into a novel? A memoir? What?

  13. Shadow - Engrossed is good!

    Jason - So you caught the character's mental descent? Excellent! I was wondering if that came across. I didn't want to write it out just so, and was hoping the subtleties would make their way through. I might try out your suggestion of making this into a larger story. This character has somehow stuck to my ribs.

    Vesper - Thank you! I love to receive a chapeau. Extra special!

    Betty - I wanted to play around with Halloween a little, too!

    Renee - You're hilarious! And thank you so much. I elicited a "holy shit" from you. How wow is that!

    Trish and Rob - Actually, a short story collection would be more up my alley. But the most fun part for me is just to write it, send it out into the universe, and let it do its own magic.

  14. I relate to this in so many ways.. Amazing amazing amazing.

    Mae x

  15. Nevine! You are an amazing writer, an amazing
    mentalist. Truly mind-tingling this offering
    of madness or the threshold of, the coming
    akin an orgasm that begins in the mind and
    never ends.

    A little bit of love offered to you, in the
    way of an award for your "can't wait to see
    what Nevine writes next" blog.

  16. I'm so glad I stopped by here, Nevine. I very much admire your ability to create "current" within your story flow. What a marvelous, marvelous find you are.

  17. This reminds me of a person suffering with insanity, living in split worlds, and beating themselves down for the choices they made .. a person sailing into another world, leaving the ones who love them behind to wonder why ... and at last, being able to pen it in such a way, it kept me on the edge of my damn seat.

    Thank you, your imagination has given me the most wonderful mind organism I have had in a long time! And the old cliche, yes, I believe I will say it .. Now I need a smoke! Oh dammit I don't smoke, so I think I will read this again.

  18. Cynthia - Thank you so much! I'm very honored to accept this award, Cynthia, and this is especially true because it comes from such a fine writer. Thanks again!

    Rick - Thank you for stopping in, and I really appreciate your comment.

    Amias - It's so true that when we isolate ourselves we leave those who care for us to agonize over why we just "disappeared." I'm happy if I played a role in your writing life. And know that you play a role in mine. These connections we make are priceless.

  19. Unnerving in many respects. I enjoyed it tremendously and a good twist in it too.

  20. There is such freedom in choosing to write this the way you did. What a depth of character, especially the house which was alive with what it was. You should expand this, it would make an excellent novel.

  21. Mme. DeFarge - Glad you like this!

    Catvibe - Sometimes a streaming exercise works best for me in bringing out the inside of a character. I'm actually playing with the idea of expanding this, so thanks for that encouraging thought.

  22. just riveting absolutely gloriously beautifully riveting!!! LOVED IT!!!!!!

  23. Oh, thank you, Gypsywoman! I appreciate that.

  24. Hi Nevine, thank you for visiting my little piece of the net and leaving your comment. I appreciate it very much.

    I am blown away by your writing...this particular piece captured my attention to the last word. I really enjoyed your most uncommon punctuation. It added marvelously to the sense of surreal.


  25. Eaton - It's always a pleasure when I bump into nice writing on a blog, and I had the pleasure of bumping into yours. Thanks for your visit, and for your very nice comment.


Your thoughts are deeply appreciated.