Turgid Prose Thursday: Getting Results

“Only she understood her sense of peace when everyone around her was uncomfortable.”

Getting Results

Ray floated slightly above the Earth, nothing ostentatious, but enough to free him from any static cling. In levitation lingo, this was known as Glancing, as it gave the levitator enough time to get back on the ground should a non-mystic pass by and do a double-take.

He was pondering God. Again.

“If we look at the world and see everything as the result of an action,” he thought, retracing steps like he was trying to remember where he left his keys, “then every result has sprung from the Ur-Action of God.”

Audrey walked in to the spare room where Ray kept his keys and various fart-redolent mats (Ray farted as he levitated, and it made him feel like Yosemite Sam. He had detached from embarrassment, however). Ray briefly thought about landing, but how would his hasty thump reflect the new honesty in their relationship? Just because she couldn’t get off the ground without a boost didn’t mean he shouldn’t feel free to hovercraft around the room.

“This month’s Westways came,” she said, tossing the AAA magazine on the floor.

“Hey—” Ray said, teetering in the air, “could you just put it with all the other mail? I’m trying to keep this room free of everything except my keys and mats.”

This was a new initiative, Ray knew, but he’d been able to keep the room swept and Spartan for nearly two weeks. A couple of weekends ago he’d embarked on a noble initiative to clear the room of a bunch of inkjet printers, Palm Pilots, cardboard boxes neither of them would ever use to ship Christmas presents, a crock pot, a breadmaker, a juicer, and a couple of second-generation iPods.

“Oh. Right,” Audrey said. She left the room and Ray made it just past her fading footsteps before he crashed to the ground, distracted. He hoped she hadn’t heard.

“Are you O.K.?” came Audrey’s voice. She had been poised outside the door.

“Yeah,” Ray said, but she hadn’t waited for his answer.

That evening they chatted amiably through dinner. Afterwards he excused himself and levitated into the far upper corner of the spare room. Audrey called for him but he didn’t answer. She entered the room below him, and he looked at her from her scalp to the top of her shoes.

For Audrey’s part, she knew he was there. Only she understood her sense of peace when everyone around her was uncomfortable. She felt like the wandering eye of a hurricane, a barometric Sandy Duncan.

Ray floated down a few hours later. All this levitating was supposed to make him feel better, but what he really needed was some sleep.

In the bedroom the fan was lifting the sheet. It billoed above the foot of the bed. He reached down to touch the top of the sheet with his fingertips. He said, “This is the Result of something that started a long time ago.”

“Put your cock in my mouth,” said Audrey, behind him. “I’ll show you a Result.”


(image of Alison Tyler from “Love, Marriage, & Other Bad Ideas” an excellent movie not about levitation)

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