So here we sit in the moment... Iphigenia's moment, Hart Crane's... And it's a real shiver, isn't it? We've got Ideas, bite-sized ones of course, then the slice-of-life in which the hero is ironically revealed stumbling upon Mortality in the loo. It's a nice start, but what we'd really like is something, you know, cathartic, a noseful of poppers, crank in the veins, some fast way to that old Literary Flush, that lump in the throat, Beauty. We're really a race of blood-suckers, aren't we? And all we have is the Story. What else can we rely upon, what else will divert us for a moment of imagined significance?

Joe Ahearn | Five Fictions
Contents | Mudlark No. 5