The following is one of three stories by Diane Williams featured in Conjunctions:76, Fortieth Anniversary Issue.
Popping
She selects a deep-dark violet eggplant that is not shriveled—green beans that are not dirty or coarse—a cucumber that’s not too thick or puffy.
This plaid-dressed lady’s voice is faint and singsong and why does she tell herself things that she already knows?—as if she is talking to a stranger—Any avocados that aren’t soft? Fresh celery? Do you have fresh grapes?
A man the lady sees lifts a Moonglow pear, and although its skin can be bitter, he presses it to his lips. And this marvelous pear, after he puts it back down, is competent to shed its aura all over a kiwi.
As a matter of fact each and every color here at Shim’s is popping around. And not merely a few of us can be distracted by all of this—the history of art teaches us.
As she dawdles near a shop that sells oddball crockery and miscellaneous gifts, the lady receives a wink from Max Hinks. And since she had long wished for this eye contact—she is now well gratified. Oh, the eggplant?—she’ll dice it and fry it, and until then it will be refrigerated and covered to prevent drying—same for the beans. The cucumber will be slashed nearly instantly.
And during this era, all injury to this lady beyond reasonable wear—all losses shall be made good to her satisfaction and when she is injured or lost—the responsibility for her shall be widespread.
This was only the case last year, when her life was not so fast-paced and gripping as it is now. Now there are persons at her side timing her vitals—until, sorry—until she is dead.
She did tend to her husband when he was ill, and she was nice to him, although they had arguments about money.
Money is foremost in her husband’s mind and what he likes best are durable and practical things—stainless steel tableware and the like, that bear no resemblance to his late wife.
He is especially fond of his Waring two-slot, light-duty toaster that was produced with no hazardous material.
It is electric, 120 volts, 950 watts, and is considered by many to be the greatest toaster ever made.
Connect
In Print
Revenants, The Ghost Issue
Fall 2024
Coedited by Joyce Carol Oates and Bradford Morrow
Coedited by Joyce Carol Oates and Bradford Morrow
Online
by Erin MacNair
December 11, 2024
The transition was quick––that much she remembers––like slipping on dark ice hidden under a fresh sheath of snow––a flash of hang time without any landing. A comforting, delicate warmth enveloped her as the old body was discarded. Now she passes upward, up, up through gauze pads and cupboards, folded cotton smocks patterned with pale blue diamonds, through hoses and needles and layers of insulation and linoleum as if matter were mere memory.
by Charlotte Tierney, Jeffrey Ford, Katherine Cart, Timothy J. Jarvis, Patricia Smith, Ryan Habermeyer, Reggie Oliver, Kathryn Davis, James Morrow, Paul Tremblay, Stephen Graham Jones, Erin MacNair, Valerie Martin
December 4, 2024
I was educated in an old Sisters of Mercy convent school, where rumors of ghost nuns were ten a penny and were never especially convincing. However, when I was fourteen, I was in a math class and the teacher walked past me to the back of the room—I heard the movement of her long skirts and felt the displacement of air. A moment later, I put up my hand and looked behind me for help, but the teacher was still sitting ahead of me at her desk in front of the class.
November 27, 2024
Rae Armantrout EXPRESSION Give me your spurt of verbs, [...]