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update from sparkleup

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Madison Rye Progress 2024-05-31 23:29:19 -07:00
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writing/post-self/idumea/005.html
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<p>&ldquo;I visited Slow Hours in her library,&rdquo; she began. &ldquo;I know that it belongs to the whole of Au Lieu Du Rêve, but she has inhabited it quite thoroughly, has she not?&rdquo;</p>
<p>&ldquo;She has, at that,&rdquo; I said.</p>
<p>&ldquo;We sat in the solarium and spoke about what reading <em>is.</em> She spoke of taking a story or a poem and wrapping oneself up in it. She gave me an example. She recited a poem:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Too many suits move in too many lines.
<p>{{% verse %}}
Too many suits move in too many lines.
They circle banquet tables, hawk-eyed,
hunting crudites, canapés, bruscheta.
Fingers ferry food — fish, perhaps — finding
@ -77,8 +77,8 @@ or at least none look it.
doing all they can to convince each other
through well-rehearsed performances,
that this must be the case.
The silently bereaved already sit graveside.&rdquo;</p>
</blockquote>
The silently bereaved already sit graveside.&rdquo;
{{% /verse %}}</p>
<p>I turned those words over and over in my head for a minute, since The Woman had seemed quite comfortable sitting in silence with me. She used that time to drink her water while I played back the words again and again, looking down at my paws, and then returned my gaze to hers. &ldquo;There is a difference between the performance of grief and grieving, is there not?&rdquo;</p>
<p>&ldquo;It is as you say. There is performed grief and performative grief. We of the tenth stanza were quite sad when Lagrange came back with us but not Should We Forget. We received condolences from many, some flowers and many kind words. Ever Dream came over and spoke with me about grief as we sat out on the field, where she said, &ldquo;It is quite sad, is it not? To lose someone you have known for so long is quite sad.&rdquo; I agreed, and then drew a line around the topic.&rdquo; She performed such a motion now, describing an arc before her with one of her well kept claws, before dismissing it with a wave. &ldquo;This was grief performed.&rdquo;</p>
<p>I nodded, and in my heart, I think I knew what was coming next, for I found my muscles bunching up as in in preparation for something — flight, perhaps? I do not know, my friends.</p>