>i received this email today (edited for length and content):
Many thanks for your submission to Diaspora
Dialogues. We apologize for how
long it has taken us to respond. We received
a high number of entries and it
took much time to read and consider each one
. . .
We enjoyed reading your short story very much and think it shows
promise. We’re very pleased to offer you a spot in our program for
year. . . . . .
that’s right, motherfucka!
by being accepted into this programme, my most recent short story, entitled “nylon-encased flesh” (for those of you who came to see my last play, the spadina monologues, you know where this title comes from!), will be published in a book anthology, and also on their website. in addition, some will also be published or read through mainstream print and radio outlets, as well as in a monthly literary festival.
i am an empty stomach, filling slowly with sweet juices and fine chocolates until rapture.
i leave vienna for paris tonight.
i found gizmo today selling tickets outside the Stephansdom by accident.
“I came to say goodbye.”
“That is so sweet of you, christine.”
“I wanted to tell you that i think big things are going to happen for you, because i think you are so talented, and so smart. i wish you all the luck in the world.“
he brushed some wisps of hair out of my face and curled them behind my ear. we spoke quietly about private things, and then ended it with a big hug that stole something from me.
and i walked away.
and fittingly, i then toured the catacombs of the Stephansdom, where the bones and bodies of those who died during the plague from the 1300s to the 1700s lay. it seems this day was a good day for death.
when i emerged from the dank depths of the past, i saw gizmo around the corner, with sunglasses and svelt. i watched him wield his charm and boyish charisma, that won me over, on defenseless tourists. and then the bells of the stephansdom rang out the hemingway novel of 12:00. they echoed like a bad dream. i then momentarily caught gizmo’s eye. i quickly spun on my heel and ran away through the old streets of vienna that i never want to see again.
goodbye vienna, i may never know the real you.
i wait anxiously for paris.