Again from an old postcard I found in the vintage market, this one is called A Little Word:“Dear Friends,
What has become of you ? If I didn’t know you well and didn’t
know of your Grand Work, I would not be easily appeased,
but I forgive you in advance. Still, I would like to hear from you
and your husband. If you really do not have the time, do allow
Marguerite to send me a little word…”
At that, Celine stopped reading the postcard. The Grand
Work was really keeping her very occupied.
Glancing at the words in ordered rows on her work table, she
immediately discarded them. That morning, she had been tooling
around with antidisestablishmentarianism, disproportionableness,
and floccinaucinihilipilification. They wouldn’t do. “A little word,”
her friend had said.
Celine walked to the big hall lined floor to ceiling with green filing
cabinets, and spent a few minutes opening boxes. She discarded
the “a” and the “an” as too bland, the “the” as too unequivocal.
Finally she came to the right one.
A week later her friend received her little word in a beribboned
blue box: “Hi.”
The book can be found here.
3 commentaires:
I absolutely love your stories La Pomme - writing short-short stories is an incredibly difficult thing to do and I think yours are by far the best I've read. Your economy of expression is an art form in itself but then you take your stories one step further, transforming them into unique artefacts - as precious as the postcards and letters that inspired them - well, that's the icing on the cake!! Beautiful.
oh, i just love it ! such a nice little story .
and god, that comment before mine is so much better said than i could have ! but i totally agree :D
Bronwyn and Matilou, I am very touched by your comments. Certain needy writers (me!) do love affirmation :) Thank you.
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