I discover the "quick message" file on my cell phone and think it might make a good story if I rearrange the entries. What it makes is not "good" so much as funny. And every sequence leads to the same spot--I think--a leap into bed. Really? Sexting, it turns out, is inevitable. So too is sorrow. Where there is a telephone, someone is waiting. And nearly wordless.
Exchange I (Recycle.)
Where u at?
B there soon.
Tipsy?
I'm gonna B late.
What's up?
Booty call.
U know u want me.
RU up 4 it?
Your place or mine?
Let's do it!
Exchange II (Repeat.)
Do it!
You up?
Your place?
Yours. Gonna be late.
Where are you?
Boy call.
Again?
B there soon.
Exchange III (Restraint.)
Soon
be there
Want
up
Call
do
You
too
Late
Photos are of a plastic drop cloth hung out to dry. September, 2011, Halifax. Recycled plastic; reusable words.
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Like these ones better than the first version. Fantastic photos and use of them. Love this.
ReplyDeleteFirst version was just an unfinished version. Glad you like these--doing them was fun. And weirdly painful. Err. Depressing.
ReplyDelete