Fragments of language and story extracted from the body

–by Temim Fruchter

Questions for Completion

Jonathan’s soul had become attached to David’s soul, and Jonathan loved him as himself.

And Jonathan said to David, “Tomorrow is the new moon, and you will be remembered, for your seat will be vacant.”

And the king sat upon his seat, as at other times, upon the seat by the wall, and Jonathan arose, and Abner sat down beside Saul, and David’s place was vacant.

–Passages from Samuel I, chapter 20

Does it fit?

The room is tiny with a window pressed against an alley full of pigeons. Like a box, it fills easily with the blue dark all except for one diluted slat of moon through the crack between the buildings. Two people can fit. Two people come in together from the cold. The walls bend with the sudden impact of warm on empty, the newest float of songs on the twin pillows. Two people can fit. Two people can fill this room to capacity. They don’t have to, but they can. They can eat with forks and wine glasses and red pepper and thick brown sauce on the bed between the blankets holding hands because it is the only place to eat in this room, and because it makes the winter rounder and less lonely. Two people can be four hands can be sticky fingers turning inward and then outward, paper bowls, fat steam, sauce. They can finish and lick spoons and fall asleep, full and still humming. And slowly, so slowly, the room will expand to hold them, together, and along with everything they carry. Continue reading →