Son of Dada, Chapter 1, The Call

Da's world called, as if I belonged there, still. And was theirs to call. There, for the using. Fallen son of a fallen priest.

"Daniel. Mark. Fra Benedict said you're the one t'call, if we need one in your line of work."

Fra Benedict. I'd have hung up, except for that.

Mark said, "There are paper details. Perhaps we'll do tea, after matins."

Matins. St.Jude's filling up. Candlesmoke. Kneeling murmurers. Mark looked old. Offered his old hand. It cost me nothing to take it. Priest and stranger being eyeballed. He hid us in his private office, the confessional. Never subtle, old Mark.

"What?" I said.

Mark said, "Lucien's lost."

Lucien. Fra Benedict guessed right. I was the only one.

Breaktime: Tidying Son of Dada

Another month’s ending. Breaktime. Let’s see about tidying up those little textings.

Little experiments. Texting in a story in little installments. Too little, tho. Well…maybe not too little. Interesting exercises in brevity, sure. Might come out better with shorter words. Or simply very caringly picking words, for meaning exactitude. But. While a reader prob’ly will figure out quickly enough the posting order, the more recent at the top, said reader will have to hop over that ‘Sent by Text Messaging blah’blah’ distraction. And I can’t turn that off in the phone.

Had a vague plot thing going that the narrator’s a private detective recording his movements…just in case, dot dot dot. Too contrived. And I wanted each texting to be like a scene, a paragraph. That’s got potential. A single moment, and concise. Simple language, too. Less artsy…stuff. Real, maybe. Cleaner, at least.

Better just to assemble them together, like a chapter in something perhaps ongoing. I’ll leave the originals, for reference, tho not as 6 sprawlers down the page.

Son of Dada…

Break’s over. It needs a title, and tag, for easy finding. It’ll do.

Son of Dada…Text testttt

Never subtle, old Mark. "What?" I said. Mark said, "Lucien's lost." Lucien. Fra Benedict guessed right. I was the only one.

Sent by Text Messaging from a mobile device.
Envoyé par messagerie texte d'un appareil mobile.
Posted by Burndtree at 7:51 am

--

It cost me nothing to take it. Priest and stranger being eyeballed. He hid us in his private office, the confessional.

Sent by Text Messaging from a mobile device.
Envoyé par messagerie texte d'un appareil mobile.
Posted by Burndtree at 7:38 am

--

Matins. St.Jude's filling up. Candlesmoke. Kneeling murmurers. Mark looked old. Offered his old hand.

Sent by Text Messaging from a mobile device.
Envoyé par messagerie texte d'un appareil mobile.
Posted by Burndtree at 1:15 am

--

Fra Benedict. I'd have hung up, except for that. Mark said, "There are paper details. Perhaps we'll do tea, after matins."

Sent by Text Messaging from a mobile device.
Envoyé par messagerie texte d'un appareil mobile.
Posted by Burndtree at 1:06 am

--

"Daniel. Mark. Fra Benedict said you're the one t'call, if we need one in your line of work."

Sent by Text Messaging from a mobile device.
Envoyé par messagerie texte d'un appareil mobile.
Posted by Burndtree at 12:59 am

--

Da's world called, as if I belonged there, still. And was theirs to call. There, for the using. Fallen son of a fallen priest.

Sent by Text Messaging from a mobile device.
Envoyé par messagerie texte d'un appareil mobile.
Posted by Burndtree at 12:50 am