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Stranger Than Wal-Mart

"Some 138 million Americans shop at Wal-Mart each week, making it perhaps the single most unifying cultural force in the country."
Chris Anderson, The Long Tail

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

The Vessel/Collette Charles

You sound tired. I'm not sure if it was work, or the strain of being so far away, but you sound exhausted tonight. The metallic smell of the phone is not what I want to be thinking about right now, but you're not talking, and I can't think of a thing to say. I'm so tired of talking to my cellphone. I want your face in front of mine. We do that thing, that awkward beginning of two conversations that clash into each other. "I just-" you say. "So how-" I try. "Sorry." We repeat together. And then interrupt each other again. "What were you-" "What was it that-" I laugh. You laugh. We all laugh. Oh we're just so funny tonight. I am quiet, letting you know it's your turn to say something. You seem to be waiting for me to do the same. I listen closely and can hear you breathing. You always breathe louder than necessary. Like you're afraid somehow the air might be gone soon, and you need to store it all up in your lungs. For safekeeping. You mumble something. "Um..." I don't respond. I just want to keep doing this, keep storing up the only contact I have with you. For safekeeping. In case you're not even real and it's just this phone that talks to me every night for hours. In case I imgined all the times we spent together and made up this person I have come to love. "You there" I hear you say. "Collette?"
"Yeah. I'm here."

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