On reading Oliver de Paz

Perhaps in Chile there is not such a custom as can be found among looming mountains of Filipino sugarcane, but I remember once a tooth falling out – perhaps it was not the first, but this is not the Philippines. It leaped out like a frog or the cork of a champagne bottle in the hands of a barbarian who spoke no French. It leaped and then rattled along the gleaming cusped hands of a sink and tumbled down a gaping pit that lead to nowhere.

If no one was there to catch it, it would explain a great deal for I am neither a rat nor a parrot. However, if there was some other presence, some other force in play that was not of this world, it may explain everything.   I can only hope that an angel caught it and is saving it for me so that we may be reunited and apologises may be made: I, for my carelessness at an innocent age, and him, for his eagerness to see the world.

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This entry was posted in Prose.

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