Milkbottle H by Gil Orlovitz

Author:Gil Orlovitz [Orlovitz, Gil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-12-29T08:00:00+00:00

No, she reaches out with her chickenbreast, a batonwand, gates at a traincrossing, stopping him, the man with the purplebarreled torso and the bludgeonlegs, the purplehaired thighs, the purple pimples more expansive and fullbodied on his back and chest, he flings the crust of the one under his nose down at the porchfloor, Good, good, a snip of pain making him sneeze, but the white clear streamway of pus in a moment followed by blood, obscuring, Goddamn it. You got a cigarette, Anne?

Tickling her housecoat, she proffers a corktip. In the matchlight his eyes are ponderous brown slabs of meat in the sockets. The lightning does a spasmwrench in the blindboys sky shinnying up and down Kanovsky’s spine, up and down

four thousand three hundred and eighty three the whole Strawberry Mansion California beach of Georgian Victorian threestoryed houses counts as the hoops, the iron rings, the quoits, the brass rings of the African negresses, the Victorian dresshoops, the midVictorian bicycle wheels spin round Annes girlbody on the continental porch, somebody has my husband by his hands, I thought he had himself by his own hands, oh my god, my god, what a terrible error Ive made, but Ill establish a world’s record before my heart gives out, my husband is my protruding chickenbreast, he is my cripple

You want me to kill you with my bare hands Kanovsky says, but I dont have bare hands, I cant get them bare, I can keep on stripping and stripping them but theyll never be bare My fathers name is Bruno Canova. My name is Anne Canova Kanovsky. Any husband of mine I have, well, I must prove hes a man, otherwise Im terrified. I dont want to live in terror, Kanovsky, do you understand? So: tell me about the actresses.

Theres nothing to tell you without a full payment of ten thousand dollars.

Youll get the money, have no doubts.

Look here, Anne, he pats her arm with ponderous gentleness, all this is so much theatrical mumbojumbo. Believe me, whether you know it or not, Im faithful to you.

You dont love me, Kanovsky, her wide gray eyes stray distantly from each other, creating spaces between of expansive beauty, of stupefying serenity, pearlgray stretches in the dark night, cool in the heat. You cant betray me by loving me now.

Youre very excited, I would advise you to lie down, you should remember your heart

Thats not very kind of you to ask me to remember that, she softly remonstrates. If I forget my heart, Kanovsky, it might improve, for it wouldnt be tortured by my solicitude. The heart, my husband, only wants to be let alone, it does not wish to be reminded of me. I alone am the culprit. You must let me be excited To kill yourself?

Ive got rights. Would you yourself rather kill me? Take over, Kanovsky, take over now obliterate my rights.

He regards her quite steadily through a feign of cigarette smoke in the sodden night. His sweat forms crystal pustules on his unshaven

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