Dear readers,
Here is another excerpt from "The Ceiling or the Floor," an essay I've completed about my rape experience. At some point, I will post the entire essay. Thanks for reading!
My mother referred to my rapist, a man she never knew raped me, as the politician. He acts, she said, as if he’s running for office. If there was a baby around, he’d kiss it before dropping it on its head. I knew my mother was right, even then. She knew things, like when I was about to dump someone, and she’d start to enjoy that person, the way you cheer up when an annoying guest edges toward the door. I watched her with great interest, if only to predict what I was going to do next.
By the summer of the rape, my romantic relationship with the soon-to-be rapist was grinding to a halt in that, I’m bored, there’s got to be more to life than this, you weren’t who I thought you were kind of way, a job that was winding down with only a few more weeks left. It was the bittersweet summer between my junior and senior year of high school, that time when a restless fever begins to spike. The man who raped me attended the same college I planned to attend and was back in the old hometown for the summer, doing nothing while I life-guarded at a public pool on a decommissioned army base. The nearby but not too nearby college was the only game in town for me, given my dreary financial situation. Even so I knew he wasn’t the only game in town -- I wanted to be free. But before our inevitable collapse, he broke into my parents' house with my one pair of pantyhose over his head, fed our German Shepherd a Gainsburger to ensure her silence, stole some gray duct tape out of my dad's garage and attacked me as I stepped out of the bathroom after taking a shower. I did not know it was him until it was over, and he pulled the tape off my mouth. I could feel the tape for years. What didn’t get used in the attack was thoughtfully returned to my dad’s garage where it stayed until it was all gone, and he bought another roll. They have a saying in Texas that you can use duct tape to fix anything.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"When you leave the house, the/ shadow of the Hindenburg enters/ to take your place." Richard Brautigan
Cocktail Hour
Drinking novella collection suggestion: Arkansas David Leavitt
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Tuesday!
15 comments:
Rosie's rear-end reminds me of the Hindenburg!
Thanks for the Brautigan shout out, I appreciate it and the beauty of it.
Michelle is this punk ass bitch still living in the mortal realm?
Oh, the humanity!
I'm a good person who said a bad thing. And that's the truth.
All guesses are open as to what happens to Tony Soprano. I know what happens to him but I can't say. Nothing happened to me in the first episode because I wasn't in it. A major character will sleep with the fishes in episode two of the Sopranos' final season.
Hey, Imus, meet us at the Four Seasons for a drink. It's on us!
Nice photo, Michelle. I auditioned for Sesame Street but Big Bird beat me out.
In zis rap zere vas only von piece of zis tap, eh?
Dear Michelle,
I hope you are finding a bit of comfort writing about such a horrible event in your life and finding that your readers truly empathize and applaud you for being able to share such a traumatic experience. I don't know what kind of a person your attacker is, but I hope, at the very least,that he is plagued by guilt the rest of his life.
Take care,
Tim
Not much can be offered for such an experience. Nothing that will make it better. I sympathize.
Jesus H. Christ, Michelle! I used duct tape in my post today. Also, I took a swipe at a politician. Very creepy coincidental thing going on here. I'm looking forward to reading the essay as a whole, probably for pure selfish reason (I'm trying to compile some of my own material for a story; trying to see how it'll unfold).
myCajunQueen
powerpoints
rapegivesmethewillies
Barmed
Shoottokillmeanmen
MightyEYes
Shazzzz
R2C2!
Inspector Clueso said...
In zis rap zere vas only von piece of zis tap, eh?
I understand why you would post such a thing anonymously...because if you said it in my presence I would beat the snot out of you just for asking such a moronic question in jest. I hope you are male and wind up in a male on male rape then you may understand what the victims go through you stupid cock licking mother fucker and if you're in Detroit please, please tell me where we can meet for coffe and a can of ass whooping ...asshole
I'd like to duct tape that fuckers skull to some train tracks.
Dear m
Thank you for trying to teach me not to think foolishly of vengeance when it comes to the monsters of theis world.
It's good that you know that this man does not need a razor weilding, propane torch baring lynch mob following him to whatever hell awaits him. Hell does not care if anyone believes in it or not; Hell is his destination regardless. He will one day have to explain himself to God. We might only screw that up by going a little crazy with pliers. God often feels for the persecuted, and we can't have that.
Politician/hypocrite/rapist the subject is, and by ill virtue of this even the cold void of atheism should grow concsious enough to swallow his soul upon his death. Vengeance and judgement lie not in our hands but in the hands of that which we hold most holy. Thank you, m, for you didn't just teach this in words; you teach it in how you live and what you write about. My sister thought your words to her were kind as well, and she rarely finds comfort with the subject.
Im out before I ruin my keybord with tears
E
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