One of my most favorite books, The People of Paper, by Salvador Plascencia, has been on my mind recently. It’s available in paperback for cheap. I highly suggest you pick up a copy from your favorite bookstore.
Below, a tiny excerpt:
The roof caved in yesterday. Today the legs of the dining-room table gave way. And the bathtub has been leaking for days.
I opened the kitchen drawer and there was nothing but rust and the plastic rings from the napkin holders.
I stayed up all night writing you a letter. It has perfect sentences– sentences that took years off my life. All the things I wanted to tell you. But when I woke up the letter was flaking and tender as ash. I touched it and it disintegrated.
You should come back.
I’m sad without you.
Without you there is nothing, not even drizzle.
I will build you bookshelves like you wanted.
Because missing you is worse than Pittsburgh.
I will wash my foreskin everyday.
I will pull it back.
I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.