The Aughts III
Once again, the world has fallen in line behind A Special Way of Being Afraid. In the third -- and final, I believe -- round-up of the decade written by someone who was at a New Year's Eve party with me in 1999/2000, my friend ANCIANT (his real name is much, much less strange than that) has offered his look back. The second half of the post takes the form of staccato poetry. I particularly liked this, about meeting the woman he went on to marry:
Learned a girl I’d met some years ago was suddenly free. Concocting surreal fantasies of blimp and ficus tree, emailed. Amazed to get reply as funny and bizarre as one I’d sent. Felt stirring, faint yet powerful, deep in the cockles, a there where stirring had not previously been felt. Bought a shirt and had a date. Learned she didn’t eat cheese. Convinced her that a polished rock was actually an after-dinner treat. Had second date. Had tenth. Cockles now a place of swift and steady storm.