Fat Angel (Richard and Lola)

[Brad Rose]

I’m getting fatter, Lola suddenly chided herself, as her busy, chattering, mind skittered from her diatribe against Jackie, to an inner self-accusatory monologue about her own physical appearance.  No…no, I AM fat. (Lola despised the word “Fat” because it sounded like, and reminded her of, “Rat.”)  Then, as if a soundtrack were rising to support her free associations, she heard the words of a distant rock and roll song: “Well, you’re built like a car, You got a hub-cap, diamond star halo.”  Even the music confirmed Lola’s self-impression.

 

I AM built like a car, Lola cringed, as she lamented her self-perceived physical liabilities.   But at least I have a halo.

 

 

http://lola-loves-richard.blogspot.com/

 

Previously on Lola Loves Richard:

The Décor Isn’t Working

 

As Lola continued her accusatory diatribe—a colorful torrent of  incrimination and condemnation—Jackie’s eyes, which had remained artificially soft and attentive despite the barbs of  Lola’s initial verbal onslaught,  momentarily drifted  from Lola’s face, to glance around her office. 

Jackie became aware, as if seeing these objects for the first time, of the warm decorative touches she’d made to the room so that her clients might feel comfortable enough to enter that calm confessional state that was thought to be prerequisite to delving into their inner psyches; a state which made accessible to “talk therapy” the various psychological wounds that had caused her clients to place themselves in Jackie’s highly regarded care, in the first place: Warm wood paneling; a tasteful and not inexpensive reproduction of a Willem de Kooning painting; a New Yorker cover depicting a Cape Cod summer scene; a vase of freshly cut flowers—which gave the room a comfortable, non-human living presence;  and some small statuary, including a piece that looked like an earthen colored Mesoamerican fertility god and a smooth flowing Henry Moore-like thing.

Lola must have detected Jackie’s flight of inattention, because the minute Jackie’s eyes returned to Lola’s anger-contorted face, Jackie heard Lola say. “Are you even fucking listening to me?”

As Jackie heard herself calmly respond “Lola, I’ve heard every word you’ve said. You think I’m sleeping with Richard.” she simultaneously thought to herself, Hmmmmm….This décor doesn’t seem to be working.

http://lola-loves-richard.blogspot.com/

[Brad Rose]

Thanks Angela. The story continues. I sometimes wonder if anyone is reading these little soap-opera installments of my 6-sentence novelette. (Of course I haven't written many in the last few months so how could they be expected to be reading them?) I'm determined, no matter how slowly, to move along the Lola and Richard story. Eventually to some kind of completion. But not before a few twists and turns in the "plot". Thanks again, for stopping by to read the latest installment.

[Angela]

Ahh... Lola and Richard.  Lola, specifically.  Always welcome voices.