Wednesday, September 17, 2003

Taking What I Can From Coincidence
Okay, so here I am with the melancholy of tides rolling inside my fog, amphetamines, and pearls. Early occult memory systems still take me back to fields outside Budapest where a man talks to me in a language that isn't Hungarian, some Middle Eastern dialect that I half understand. I don't know what's in the other half and I sort of have a feeling I need to because he's taking me to a place that's filled with horses and the smell of fire and my mother always told me not to go with strangers, but I never listened anyhow, so why start now? Besides, there's nothing to do except listen to my borrowed Bob Dylan box set or turn on the tube and watch cable.

It turns out this guy is a good friend of a friend of mine, and he's staying in Pest for a few days, here to attend a horse developer's conference that's being paid for by his current employer, (he didn't say who that was or maybe that's the half I didn't get), and said he'd like me, of all people, to help him pick out a horse.

"What do I know about horses?"

He laughed, "Good joke, Ginny. We all know you've been riding horses since you were three years old."

All the people standing around the fire begin to laugh, and I guess I feel pretty good that for some reason I see so many gold teeth, which reflect the fire and make it even brighter.

Is that a coincidence, or what?

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