Look, said Dick. See the red car. Jane said, Oh, look! It goes fast. A flashback to gramps reading Dick and Jane, about a little toy car—so unlike the real red car I’ve been working on. A beauty, I think, as I park it on a red-brick street, down from Carmine’s red-brick cottage. It’s autumn and the street’s lined with maples and their colorful leaves—canary, caramel, crimson. A group of kids with marshmallows-on-a-stick are huddled around a small bonfire …
Tag: Cake
“The Smell of Purple” * Fiction * Rainie Zenith
Before my grandmother died, we would walk down to the cemetery, sit on the bench that faced the road and count cars. Just the red ones. When the count reached ten, we’d walk back up the hill to Gran’s house for a cup of tea and a shortbread biscuit. The most amazing thing about Gran’s house was the bathroom. It was purple in every sense of the word. That is, it was painted mauve and always smelled like lavender, from …
Molly Bloom’s Stream of Consciousness Ends in Flowers & Perfumed Breasts, Excerpt from Joyce’s Ulysses
As I mentioned in Corpse Flower Revisited, I’ve recently reread James Joyce’s Ulysses, and it is the nature of such an encyclopedic book, that each time one reads it, one finds new threads to pull, new aspects to admire. This time I was struck by Molly Bloom’s final words–the last words of the book–that are full of food and flowers, taste and smells–so many of our favorite things at Aromatica Poetica. From the bit of seedcake that she passes to …