Fischer lay in bed in the asylum, tense as a gargoyle, unbearably awake
because of chess with his father.
The lessons soldered his cerebrum. His cerebrum short circuited: Leave the
knights on the back row. Be aggressive with the rooks. Move the queen out
as quickly as possible.
So many hypotheticals. So much losing.
And the board itself, each square a minor concussion.
Insomnia troubled him until dawn when at last he slept for an hour then
awoke erect as a saint with no one to touch.
Sometimes it helped him to picture earth from space:
The blue and white eye.
The slow reentry.
Mother with child in subway.
Quietude, a Word
Quietude, a word;
Mountain road, an image;
Around the bend, a phrase;
A coin.
Elijah, a chair;
Mumbo jumbo, a prophecy;
Sadness begets clairvoyance, an observation;
A telescope.
Planet earth, an oracle;
Land and sea, a strategy;
Lion and zebra, a zigzag;
A cigarette.
You, a universe;
Of little consequence, a truth;
Of no consequence, an untruth;
Quietude, a word.
Ms. Abernathy and the Various
Stages of Mad Cow Disease
Cities,
enclaves of light among oceans;
clusters of life among deserts;
nerve centers of the manmade world.
As a child, observing city life had the same effect on Ms. Abernathy as
warming her hands before a campfire:
................
"To tell the history of New York City," she would say,
................
"is to tell the story of the world." "H.G. Wells."
Years ago she packed away her bonnet in a chest in an attic in the country
and moved away to that city. She became everything she loved and called it
victory. Called it honey. A life.
And then came the fever and the delirium. She began dating checks 1847.
And then hallucination and tears dispersing, diffusing, like rain drops into
a sea, now frozen, a snow plain, scattered pines scattered green on constant
white, now silent, searching in a graceful mood for the attic of her bonnet.
