Then I finally found one and she charged it and we rushed out to her car, always a symbol of possibility–especially when it belongs to a woman (even if she's a policewoman–just so long as it's not her police car).
Following his reading at the Guthrie in Minneapolis in 1981, Isaac Bashevis Singer called on a young woman seated towards the back waving by now her hand. She said, "What if each time you sit down over paper, you don't dare pick up the pen because you're afraid of what's inside of you, of what might come out?"
(Mill, Popper, Keynes and Co.–from what morgue did these guys pinch their human mock-ups? The undisturbed truth is that some people, confronted by the choice of pleasure or pain, incarceration or freedom, will pick incarceration & pain each time. The brain is a gland of the stomach.)
Singer replied, "Write it down, write it down–and make us all afraid."
Back at her place she leavened my mood and then my manhood by removing first her frown and then her clothes to stand before me, a very naked policewoman.
"You're shivering," she said.
Eldon (Craig) Reishus lives outside Munich and is a German-English translator of numerous films and books. His writing has appeared in Word Riot, MadHatLit, New World Writing, decomP, Corium, and other fine places. Visit him: www.reishus.de