Newsgroups: talk.bizarre,alt.butt.harp,alt.prose,rec.arts.prose From: richh@netcom.com (richh) Subject: RICHH: MARK P. YOU ARE SO SENUOUS! Date: Sun, 20 Mar 1994 21:06:38 GMT *Stop. Look down. Tell me what you see.* I see the sidewalk, nothing more. *No. Look at the sidewalk. Look closer. See. What is written there?* "Cosmo et Ramona" *Above that.* "Mark P. you are so senuous! D.F." *That's it. How come you never saw it before?* I guess I'm just not that observant. I have lots of things on my mind. *Where are you?* Just east of Lee's Hoagies, on the South Side of Chestnut Street, below 41st Street. *You come this way every day?* I do. I don't live far. *What does that mean to you...what is written at your feet?* It's kids' stuff. Not important. *Really?* Really. *Did anyone ever feel that way about you? That strongly, that she would write it in wet cement, proclaim it like that, tatoo it on the world?* Hey, I like that tatoo bit... *Answer me.* Well, no. I don't recall anyone who'd have written something like that. *Not even Alison?* Alison. *Yes, well?* No, that wasn't her style. Besides, I think I made that whole thing up in my mind to be something bigger than it really was. *You didn't love her?* No, you don't understand. I *did*. I *did* love her. Only I wasn't anything to her. *Do you consider yourself sensuous?* I *do*, I *do*. But I doubt anyone else perceives me that way. *In what ways are you sensuous. Well, many, actually. I have a very good sense of smell. I remember fragrances, aromas, very very keenly. Greenhouses, damp earth, Indiana, after it rains--these are my favorites. *How do others see you?* Well, that's really the question, isn't it? *Answer.* I suppose as a clown, a nonentity. Someone pitiable, if they even think of me at all. *That sounds rather bleak.* I guess it does. *You need something...what?* I need more color. My day, my life seems gray. Some color would be nice. *Where does one get...this color?* Well, other people, of course. *What about this D.F. person?* Mark P.'s girl? *You remember.* I'm standing right atop her. I ought to. *Find her.* Find her? For all I know this sidewalk is decades old... *Look at it.* It's new. *Year old at the most.* Ok. Next step? *Put up a sign. Ask around. Poke your nose in...* You know something?? I think I will. I will! *Well?* The guy in the hoagie place said they redid that part of the sidewalk about a year ago. Said he remembered seeing some kids writing in the wet cement with sticks, but he chased them away. *'Sensuous' is hardly a kids' word.* True. That's got me wondering. Why didn't she say 'sensual'? Does she know the difference? Does she know 'sensuous' is correct? *That's changing. People use them near-interchangeably now.* Which makes her use of 'sensuous' even more significant. This is one bright girl. *So you're chalking up the misspelling to...* Not important. She was afraid of getting caught. You heard what the hoagie guy said. He chased her away. D.F. was rushed, excited about this Mark P. fella, and *still* she managed to use a word like 'sensuous'. I gotta find this girl. This is some kinda girl! Sensuous... *SenUous.* Moot point. You know, I'll bet she's one of these genius kids who's just waiting for someone to-- *What did you major in, in college?* What does that have to do with anything? *Answer.* Classics. *Ah. Homer, Aristotle...* Yeah, yeah. That was a long time ago. *Did you have a minor?* Yeah, I guess you could call it that. Mediterranean civilizations. It was kind of a dual/independent major deal. *Have you ever been to Europe?* No. *What do you do for a living?* I work for the state. *Interesting.* Sometimes. Not much anymore though. *What's on your mind?* D.F. Danielle? Diane? Deborah? *Dirk, Dan, Deon* No, D.F. is a girl. I know it. *Why don't you ask the hoagie guy if he knows anything more.* That's a good idea! I will. *Well?* He says he sees her walk by from time to time, that she has long brown hair, and he thinks she goes to West Philly Girls' High, just up the street. That would explain why she comes by here so much. *Now what?* I don't know. I think he thought I was some kind of creep--wanted to know why I was asking all these questions... *Could be trouble.* Nah. I bought a hoagie, told him that I was looking for this old friend of my daughter's, whom we'd lost contact with after they moved to Philly. He bought it. *Quick thinking.* I thought so. *Now...?* I think I'll take a few days off from work and hang out across the street in my car..." *You're gonna -stalk- a high school girl?! You ARE a creep.* Hey--it's not like that. I'm just curious. *If you -say- so* You'll see. Tomorrow. Be here. ----------------------------- *Look. You see that?* I do. *Who is it?* It's the brown-haired girl.* *What's she doing?* She's looking at what she wrote in the sidewalk, touching it with her foot. *Now?* She's reaching down, running her fingers over the letters. *What do you think?* She looks sad. I think she's remembering how she felt when she wrote that. Mark's a prick. He broke her heart. *What if you're wrong?* Look at her. *What if Mark died in a car crash last year? Might that not also be the case? Would she look any different? How would you know?* There's no way to tell. You're right. She looks so sad. *You gonna go over there? You know I really really think you should.* Yeah, I think I will. I will! *Creep.* RICHH