Bombay Teaser
My mom yells at me a lot.
Did you do the dishes? Did you? Good, now go outside. Can’t have a moment of peace with you in this house. Go clean the spears. The spears have blood from yesterday’s hunt and I won’t have blood in here. Just cleaned the floors. I know you didn’t put it there. But you might put it here with all that fucking around by the stream. And since you’re not old enough to hunt its your job to clean the spears, now clean the fucking spears and then clean your fucking hands because you better not bring any bloody hands inside this house.
It’s not that bad. Out in the back of the house there’s a stream, it runs behind all the houses on our block. Mountain water. The mountains are behind the stream – horizon to horizon, tall, Mount Stephen twenty thousand feet easy according to the other people on West End Avenue. Snowcaps even in summer, deep green tree cover down to the streams and the town.
West End Avenue the western edge of Bombay, a town that hides at the bottom of its mountain. The human presence in a Japanese painting. The town has two art museums and a sushi joint we sometimes go to with fresh salmon from where our stream meets some other streams and becomes the Stephen River. Dad said he’d take me fishing there when I’m old enough. He also said he’d take me to hunt the buffalo.
Did you do the dishes? Did you? Good, now go outside. Can’t have a moment of peace with you in this house. Go clean the spears. The spears have blood from yesterday’s hunt and I won’t have blood in here. Just cleaned the floors. I know you didn’t put it there. But you might put it here with all that fucking around by the stream. And since you’re not old enough to hunt its your job to clean the spears, now clean the fucking spears and then clean your fucking hands because you better not bring any bloody hands inside this house.
It’s not that bad. Out in the back of the house there’s a stream, it runs behind all the houses on our block. Mountain water. The mountains are behind the stream – horizon to horizon, tall, Mount Stephen twenty thousand feet easy according to the other people on West End Avenue. Snowcaps even in summer, deep green tree cover down to the streams and the town.
West End Avenue the western edge of Bombay, a town that hides at the bottom of its mountain. The human presence in a Japanese painting. The town has two art museums and a sushi joint we sometimes go to with fresh salmon from where our stream meets some other streams and becomes the Stephen River. Dad said he’d take me fishing there when I’m old enough. He also said he’d take me to hunt the buffalo.
posted by base at 7:32 AM
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