The morning suit fit like celebratory garments but there was no wedding, no romantic interest on the horizon. Sometimes I wished I tried harder. Often, I caught myself daydreaming of the human figure, their long limbs. I saw them only in parts.
Arms, ankles.
I wanted someone who swam.
I wore the wedding suit habitually. To spite it, I wore it in the evening. I dressed for dinner in it.
I ramble, I know. This narrative moves at pen-speed. Going on and on. One should consider the speed a writer composes a story. Composes? In the words of Michael Ondaatje, Kim comma sat astride the great gun comma. Etc.
To go on. Must go on. And on and on.
All The Things We Don't Discuss is a genre-bending literary gothic novel with a missing person at its core. If you like magic realism, unreliable narrators, 19th century Gothic, dreamy slipstream type stories, and mysteries…you’ll like this. Maybe. You can read chapter 7 here, and read the entire book so far from the beginning here.
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