THE LANGUAGE PARABLE

 
 


In truth I wanted so many things! I wanted new shoes. A sweater to replace my tattered one. A cup of ice cold, filtered water. A dozen Harlequin romance novels to last me through the dank months of winter. My mind was adrift. I imagined myself as a side-kick to Brautigan's Mr. C. Card, the filthy private eye, rummaging through the streets of the sadly comedic San Francisco, with a mind uncontrollably drifting to Babylon. Except, I was fleeing to Bollywood.