Vague/Fanny July 22, 2013Posted by indigobunting in Uncategorized.
Are they short stories? Prose poems? Paintings? Short films? They suggest just enough to make me think I know more. Now, in the midst of a hot, sultry summer, I feel I am ducking into a dark, cool theater in the middle of an afternoon. There is a barely perceptible flicker to the black-and-white images before me; behind me, the projector scratches and purrs. The characters of the Danforth, the people of Wayne McNeill’s life past and present, get under my skin. I develop my own crush on Mlle Vague, and I begin to love Fanny (a cat) in a way that is at once reverent and commonplace. Most of the year, with the same stories, McNeill instead warms me. I knock, and he lets me in. I shake the snow off my coat and leave my wet boots at the door. I sit near the fire escape where Fanny used to hold court, and Alfie (the new girl) considers me. Mlle Vague says something witty, of course. If I am lucky, there will soon be wine, perhaps even comfort food that sticks to my ribs.
I will give this book to many friends. Do the same for yours.
Congratulations, bard of the Danforth.