Tokyo to Tijuana: Gabriele Departing AmericaSills, Steven David Justin
General
Tokyo to Tijuana: Gabriele Departing America
Sills, Steven David Justin
Fiction
At the park she swam for a short time in the swimming pool. Gleaming studfish
of the Spandex species were everywhere and their gleaming bodies magically
invoked within her sexual feelings--each in his own way. Then she sat along a
lake watching row boats stir the waters that were turned to silver in the
sunlight and joggers running on a road that was to her right. Her womanly
instincts wondered what life would be like to be involved with one of such
studly apparitions. She disregarded such lowly inclinations by walking around
the park. She followed loud pop music and then with a hundred others she did
some aerobics according to the movements of the teacher on his wooden platform
and then, exhausted, she lay in the shade of the trees. She became aware of
feathery leaves, angular leaves, paddle shaped leaves and the fronds of palms
and ferns. She briefly fell asleep and when she awoke those leaves had become a
silhouette. She felt blessed to be in such beautiful variety and the ostensible
plan that went into it, or at any rate, "one hell of a variety from
adaptation"; and this healed and restored her. As she watched runners also fade
into silhouettes she yearned for the mystery of their movement. She wanted to
run to foreign countries and escape this God sanctioned superpower that school
children were brainwashed into believing as better than all other countires.
She wanted to peak inside these foreign lands and say "Hi" to its denizens.
She went into a bathroom in a McDonald's restaurant and changed into more
formal clothes. Then she went shopping at Sax. The outlandish prices to the
clothing of super rich snobs appealed to her, as it had before, but when she
got back to her car she was reminded that they were just foder for covering
nakedness.
By chance she saw that a travel agency was still open and she stepped into it.
Photographs of Peru, Mexico, Egypt, Italy, and China graced her. Where would
she go? Should she take her son with her as part of his education? No, she told
herself. This would be a contemplative retreat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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