Deep And Sucking In Places

She Ain’t Stoppin’ by Christi Nogle

“In the dream, he was there in a blink.
In reality, it was a torturous slog. “

“It was not even slow motion, was it? It was a complete stillness.”

Sometimes, I read a story and I simply know how unreservedly great it is. This is definitely one such.
A relatively brief foray into the semantic quicksand or gluey half-on-half Zenoism as from an Aickman or an Elizabeth Bowen… with dreaming sporadically difficult to be differentiated from waking, and the fact of being dressed in one’s finest clothes that are not fine at all, and the unsavoury characters as crude and painterly Bosch depictions snickering with sly pornography folded into tubes, and innuendos — and adumbrations of the main protagonist’s wedding to a woman called Carmine, and the wedding feast in a barn, followed or preceded by a dream of waking up in a cellar, and his waiting bride on the wedding night is confused in my mind with a goddess who explodes…
Don’t even go there!
And I haven’t yet told you half of it!
Just to mention, though, the main protagonist — an ‘old timer’ among other such, slowed-down timers who ‘look like shit’ — seems to bear the name of ‘Lewis’…

“deep and sucking in places, he thought he might be carried down”

(My previous reviews of this author: )

The context of the above review of a Christi Nogle story in VASTARIEN here:

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