1913issue6online

209 Smile— *** The Black Dress sits in the passenger seat of the Lincoln. She sits quietly— The Lincoln traveling North and Bloom behind the wheel—not caring if he is taking the most efficient route or no—not caring if the Black Dress killed anyone or no—or that the labor dis- pute remains at a standstill—or placed under the microscope— “A fraud in most respects,” the Black Dress tells him—all very scientific—Bloom driving the Lincoln and imagining what their life will be like together—and truly awful— Domesticated out of fear or bullied by exhaustion—and a beige house and an easy commute into Indianapolis—Zionsville to downtown—and old testament like Zion—and old testament like awful—except more beige and more affluent—and less self-righteous and less wrathful—the Black Dress saying noth- ing—and the high-rev of the Lincoln— Lovely, Bloom thinks—the windshield framing a group of unattractive men—and the Black Dress will say what she needs to say when she needs to say it, Bloom thinks—waiting patiently— Driving away from the hospital—and the smiling doctors— In their white jackets and white skin—canary yellow—seri- ous blue—standing and smiling—the white jackets smil- ing—wave—and a sharp pain up and into Bloom’s side—white pants, white hands—the white ephemeral smoke from a cigarette— Constantly and consistently just baffled, Bloom thinks—a cer- tain order—or to truly know what’s actually going on— And quickly Bloom turns inward and thinks of his anxieties: cocaine addicted mice—white pants and brown shoes—to fall in love and be destroyed at regular intervals— Not eating meat—long list of nouns without verbs—the self-

1913issue6online

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