Sunday, August 9, 2009

Creviche Thorassic makes dessert

Creviche Thorassic kept putting her emotions away, and because she had unusually large ones, she was running out of space. Her drawers were full, her cupboards were full, she was using up space under her bed and in her crawl space. Everywhere that was out of sight, there were unused emotions. Creviche had learned that you had to rationally and carefully decide which emotions you were going to have and in what order and size, in order to fit them neatly into your schedule and the larger framework of goals that you had set for your life. If the emotions were unpleasant, there was the risk that they would last too long, and if they were very pleasurable, it was a disturbing thought that they might end, and so it was clear that it was impossible to both have all the messy emotions and cheerfully fulfill all the roles that life demanded. Snip snip, Creviche would only cuf off little samples of each emotion to try, and then she stuffed them out of sight before they got out of control in any way.

The emotions were simply lying in wait, of course. Like a cat getting positioned to pounce, they were staring through cracks and holes and wiggling their butts quietly in the dark. One day, their moment would come.

Nobody was prepared for it - not Creviche, nor the emotions - when it actually happened. On a perfectly ordinary Wednesday afternoon La Cumparsita was playing on the stereo and Creviche was making dulce de leche and thinking about how Argentinians invented it, as well as tango and matches and fingerprints, when suddenly everything broke loose at once. Creviche suddendly could no longer stand her carefully manicured life, and started pulling everything open, and the emotions started thundering out of their hiding places, and suddenly there was a storm of activity and tango and feeling and madness and dulce de leche, and Creviche pulled out long lost emotions and tossed all her boxes and drawers and suitcases and bags onto the street, and she was lost in a tornado of feeling and blown into the sky with her pot of custard, and she flew and flew for a long time and thought she might end up in the moon.
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