fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Imagine anyone but Vivian Leigh as Blanche Dubois? Certainly not.
Old flames, they return on the wind to interrupt your life no matter what your into at the time.
What I wrote before:
repost/ one edit
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
letter to Blanche Dubois
letter to Blanche Dubois
fiction
edward w pritchard
Yes, I am not one for writing. It was so sad when you left Stella's house down in the French quarter; I couldn't write until now. I missed you.
I am in the South again. Sort of the South, I am in North Carolina, at the beach. Won't you come and walk with me at the ocean? I know you don't like bright light. Today's there is a storm at sea. The sky is a muted red with streaks of violent, opps I mean violet.
How have you been getting on since they took you away, dear Ms. Dubois. It's been ages, what is it sixty five years ago since you left New Orleans. Where did they take you? How are you getting on? I bet you play mah jong and gamble some there and can you drink a little? It's OK, if you have other gentlemen friends there. I'll try to understand. What do they call the place where they took you to live? Are the strangers who took you away kind to you there Blanche?
I drove a long way to get to the ocean; through mountains, over hill, over dales. Tomorrow I will be there at the beach. I'll watch for you walking on the dunes. Wear the long dress. The one that blows and flaps in the winds at the shore. We can watch the storms blow in from Portugal and I will have a few beers and you can have gin. Don't worry about the bright light. When there is a storm at sea the light is muted and it's hard to see things clearly.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Yes, I am not one for writing. It was so sad when you left Stella's house down in the French quarter; I couldn't write until now. I missed you.
I am in the South again. Sort of the South, I am in North Carolina, at the beach. Won't you come and walk with me at the ocean? I know you don't like bright light. Today's there is a storm at sea. The sky is a muted red with streaks of violent, opps I mean violet.
How have you been getting on since they took you away, dear Ms. Dubois. It's been ages, what is it sixty five years ago since you left New Orleans. Where did they take you? How are you getting on? I bet you play mah jong and gamble some there and can you drink a little? It's OK, if you have other gentlemen friends there. I'll try to understand. What do they call the place where they took you to live? Are the strangers who took you away kind to you there Blanche?
I drove a long way to get to the ocean; through mountains, over hill, over dales. Tomorrow I will be there at the beach. I'll watch for you walking on the dunes. Wear the long dress. The one that blows and flaps in the winds at the shore. We can watch the storms blow in from Portugal and I will have a few beers and you can have gin. Don't worry about the bright light. When there is a storm at sea the light is muted and it's hard to see things clearly.
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