Sunday, February 23, 2014

Week in Seven Words #204 & 205

Pearls of dark chocolate and mint, spilled onto Purelled hands.

Haven't we had this conversation before? In our respective chairs, one of us talking more than the other?

I take a dialect quiz (focusing on pronunciation, and certain vocab and expressions), and the results are supposed to tell you what region of the US you're from. As it turns out, the way I speak fits closest to these three cities: San Jose, Fremont, and Honolulu. Also, I'm generally a very strong fit with Long Island, NY. Given that I was born in California and spent close to six years of my life in southern California, then the rest of my childhood on Long Island, these are pretty accurate results.

The days are slight, as thin as fingernails.

Embers in me that I want to coax back to life.

The animals have one corner of the floor; the plants have the other. In his world, at this time, they can't mingle.

"Are you with someone?" he asks, his eyes scanning the room, fishing for additional prospects. "Yes," I say. "If it doesn't work out," he immediately says, in a business-like tone, "could I be the first one to know? Let me know, right after." Yep. That's exactly what I'm going to do. The first thing I'll think of in the aftermath of a break-up is you. And I do in fact get his business card, with two phone numbers. His customer service skills are impeccable.

This is the kind of cold that scrubs away at your cheeks like steel wool.

I don't know how they do it - plunge into the cold water without their hearts stopping.

The space beneath my desk is very cold. I could chill wine in there, where the heat hasn't made its way.

Deft fingers on the mandolin and a rough and honest voice. Magnificent.

A sky like gray silk.

They're a married couple with no apparent chemistry. No shared looks, no laughter in their eyes, just a tiredness in the way they move and talk to each other. As if they'd always rather be in different rooms. There's no sense of what's holding them together except for social acceptableness.

Hours of poetry, some earnestly awful and some of it beautiful. It's been a while since I had the pleasure of listening to poetry read out loud. Even the bad poetry sounds better read out loud.


Nan said...

Again, you amaze and delight me with your words. Every single one is perfect. I don't know how you do it. Is there a process? You see the couple and how they relate and sisal comes to mind? It's like magic to me. Really. Thank you as always.

Yvonne@fiction-books said...

Hi Hila,

I too found the word sisal and your interpretation of it, so very moving and totally apt.

I don't like to be read to, hence my aversion to audiobooks, however I do believe that poetry readings can be something unique and moving, although I don't know anyone else who would want to accompany me to such a reading!

Echoes also sums up many of my days pretty well. Why is it that you can look at another person when you are speaking to them and just know that they haven't really heard a word you said and in fact, probably aren't even listening to you. Then that same person can strike up a conversation with you and expect you to show rapt interest and answer correctly in all the right places! .... Am I really that boring?

Great post as always, ever a joy to read.


HKatz said...

@ Nan; thanks so much. Usually I write the moments/episodes down, then I think of a word for each (most of the time, the word doesn't come automatically during the moment itself, but only after). And sometimes I look up words related to ones I already know, so it isn't just something that pops into my mind.

@ Yvonne; thanks also for your kind words. You aren't boring; what you write is interesting to read and think about. Some people aren't good listeners, at all. They may be wrapped up too much in themselves; they may not make an effort to take an interest in something that isn't their personal hobby. When it happens on a regular basis, it's insulting and wearying, especially when it comes from someone close to you.

Naida said...

lol about tonedeaf and how sad is sisal.
Great words as always.

Relyn Lawson said...

Who were you listening to in "earthy"? I want to hear.

"Tonedeaf" cracked me up!! Sick and smarmy - I can just see him.

"Even bad poetry sounds better when read aloud." Yes, yes, yes!!

HKatz said...

@ Naida - thanks!

@ Relyn - She was a musician performing on a mandolin and singing an old song. Just out in public. Unfortunately I had nothing on me to record even a part of it, or I'd gladly share it.