from As a Friend
Forrest Gander
I loved those times when the two of us were sent out together. I loved watching him, feeling my own neck and shoulders make little sympathetic adjustments to the way he moved. It didn't matter whether he was walking into a room full of people or leaning into the transit in the middle of a field, he was more hypnotic than anyone I'd ever seen. It was a strange electric quality like when leaves take on the first shimmer of color in the fall. And maybe it was his death in him, pressing early to the surface of his skin, that gave him some kind of radiance. There was something purely erotic about it. And when we surveyed, whether he was speaking to me through the two-way or calling out matter of fact questions and numbers, I felt an almost masochistic charge, an undercurrent of throbbing obedience to him that weakened the sockets behind my knees and sometimes gave me inconvenient hard-ons.
1 comment:
LOVED this book.
Post a Comment