Stories Models Tell
Ivars Balkits
Ivars Balkits
Pencil to chin, she is thinking. In her underwear, leaning against the bed, holding her thigh. Her nipples poking through the fabric as if she were cold, she is thinking: "I am cold."
My gosh, she slaps her head and smiles, holding the telephone. In her underwear, leaning against the end table. She has been surprised but not unhappily by a remark on the telephone. The remark was: "You're standing in your underwear by the phone."
The model with the knot in her hair was about to get into bed, when the turn of phrase in a book she is reading caught her attention. In her long underwear, knee on the bed, other knee straight, other knee's foot on the floor. The turn of the phrase? "The other knee's foot's on the floor."
In her pajamas, the woman writes in a book, using a pencil with a detachable eraser. On the bed are more books and envelopes. In the book she writes: "Aloe." "Aloe" is her answer to "4-Across, Healing Succulent." She's not sure if that's the answer.
The men are looking away. Left and right, they look into the distance, smiling, serious, almost laughing, in their beautiful sweaters. Hairs slightly out of place, jackets casually held in arm crooks, thumbs hooked into jean's pockets.
Glasses have been removed. Wristwatches are prominent. They hang around in the rocks and look away. Hands in their pockets, they look away. Noticing the unusual, they look away.
Carrying briefcases, torsos are walking. There are no creases where shirts enter their pants. Their eyes are not twinkling. Their ties are not bent. The torsos are walking or standing, ready, going to work.
Three differently colored women look to the left. One brown, one white, one darker brown, holding long-stemmed glasses, elegantly dressed. They are laughing at someone or some, uh, thing off to the left. Behind them in a tuxedo smiling, a man looks to the left, colored male.
Four differently colored people, looking to the left, and what do you think they see? Across the magazine spine: themselves, looking in different directions, wearing different clothing. The man, farthest left, whispers to one woman, who laughs at what says. The other women on the left looking dull, look away. They are so close together, so close together, the women looking so differently, too close not to know what is going on.
What is going on? Why are the three women looking to the left at themselves and laughing? Is it because they see themselves so close together, and acting as if they don't exist? Is it because they see the whispering and laughing and looking away?
Eh?
Flash Issue 9
Ivars Balkits’ poems and prose have been most recently published by Nomaterialism, Anvil Tongue Radio, Harpy Hybrid Review, Lotus Eater, Experiential-Experimental-Literature, Sulφur Surrealist Jungle, Fixator Press, Courtship of the Winds, Abstract Elephant, Fiction International, Fleas on the Dog, LitroNY, and cahoodaloodaling. He is a recipient of two Individual Excellence Awards from the Ohio Arts Council, for poetry in 1999 and creative nonfiction in 2014.