1
THE LONGPORT GAZETTE
A LEXANDER L AX A RRIVES T ODAY !
A LEX ARRIVED EARLY evening at the town’s edge. Hidden was the hill beyond, obscured in a dark, dense, fog not even a glint of light to show it. On the bridge off the main road, the daughter stopped the car while he sat, gazing into the misty emptiness above, captured by the sign that read Longport: Pop. 999.
The sign seemingly moved the daughter who was keen on getting to Longport before nightfall. She left quickly, driving on, maneuvering the car down the road as if native to the area, winding round this bend and that corner, until…
Nearing the outskirts Alex made out what looked like a main office trying to pose as a town hall. A new and yet odd place, bearing an illusory air. A forged copy of reality clearly coveting praise like any façade should. Another mask desiring so much to be.
Alex fell back in the car seat, looking as if forced fed Casu Marzu in the company of politicians, despising what he saw and making no amends about it. But like it or not, it was here in Longport he was to live out any remaining days. Fact or fiction, this was home now.
Alex peeked out the car door window, seeing an ideally dressed figure standing at the door of the office, tall, wearing a navy blue garment, black dress shoes and gray ankle socks pulled up to the base of the knees, ending this grown—up wear with a long—sleeved top, dark shades, and a navy blue cap.
“He looks familiar .” Alex said coolly.
As the man neared the car, Alex slowly reached for the lock, freeing it with the care of a watchmaker, gradually opening the door saying,
“Hello, do I know you?”
“No,” the attendant said flatly, “I’m the attendant .”
“A brief lapse I suppose. Anyway,” then a pause… “Alex. Nice to meet you.”
“We’ve been expecting you Mr. Lax. How was the trip?”
“Fine.”
“We have the place ready.”
“Good.”
“If you would come with me please. Some papers need signing.”
The three; that is, Alex, the daughter, and the attendant climbed the office steps. Like everything, the steps clarified the air, as if owning a forced face rivaling the vainest of souls. A fresh fictile form hiding a hollow truth, likely masking decay, yet not creaking, screeching or groaning in the least. The door played a like note. Amusing it was the horseshoe atop the roman type arch, looking as if plastic, formative yet false. Touching it seemed out of line, to all show ceding a candor it sought to hide.
As each passed through the door, a clear change took place, the inside severing reality, scruffy, plain, and humble, a complete about—face of the exterior . Objects seemingly seeking out favored spots easing as it were the overall life of the place. “Don’t mind the mess,” the attendant said, “I’m just that way. Now I know those papers are here; somewhere?”
“No hurry.” Alex said.
“Really.” the daughter quipped.
“Ah, here we are. The key and a couple of papers. If you would, sign here, and here.”
Alex examined the papers with the eye of a lawyer considering a business contract. Of course, no great mystery followed. Of the two, one showed that the tenant now held the key and the other willed that should the tenant wish to take part in the yearly picnic please note ‘yes’ and sign. Alex took some time, for all one knows stalling, or maybe as a reminder of who was in charge. “There; done.” Alex said.
Alex won the key, then—waiting…heard a cheer, “Yay. Welcome to Longport,” from a now elated attendant.
“Thanks.” Alex said.
“Yes, thanks ؟” the daughter added.
Alex and the daughter left, going back to the car to get a few things from the trunk. Only the item of these remained as homes in Longport came fully equipped with all the dress, furniture, kitchen appliances, utensils, washer and dryer, to name a few.
N O L OVING S PEECHES or drawn out goodbyes. After all, it was only the daughter. Why
THE LONGPORT GAZETTE
A LEXANDER L AX A RRIVES T ODAY !
A LEX ARRIVED EARLY evening at the town’s edge. Hidden was the hill beyond, obscured in a dark, dense, fog not even a glint of light to show it. On the bridge off the main road, the daughter stopped the car while he sat, gazing into the misty emptiness above, captured by the sign that read Longport: Pop. 999.
The sign seemingly moved the daughter who was keen on getting to Longport before nightfall. She left quickly, driving on, maneuvering the car down the road as if native to the area, winding round this bend and that corner, until…
Nearing the outskirts Alex made out what looked like a main office trying to pose as a town hall. A new and yet odd place, bearing an illusory air. A forged copy of reality clearly coveting praise like any façade should. Another mask desiring so much to be.
Alex fell back in the car seat, looking as if forced fed Casu Marzu in the company of politicians, despising what he saw and making no amends about it. But like it or not, it was here in Longport he was to live out any remaining days. Fact or fiction, this was home now.
Alex peeked out the car door window, seeing an ideally dressed figure standing at the door of the office, tall, wearing a navy blue garment, black dress shoes and gray ankle socks pulled up to the base of the knees, ending this grown—up wear with a long—sleeved top, dark shades, and a navy blue cap.
“He looks familiar .” Alex said coolly.
As the man neared the car, Alex slowly reached for the lock, freeing it with the care of a watchmaker, gradually opening the door saying,
“Hello, do I know you?”
“No,” the attendant said flatly, “I’m the attendant .”
“A brief lapse I suppose. Anyway,” then a pause… “Alex. Nice to meet you.”
“We’ve been expecting you Mr. Lax. How was the trip?”
“Fine.”
“We have the place ready.”
“Good.”
“If you would come with me please. Some papers need signing.”
The three; that is, Alex, the daughter, and the attendant climbed the office steps. Like everything, the steps clarified the air, as if owning a forced face rivaling the vainest of souls. A fresh fictile form hiding a hollow truth, likely masking decay, yet not creaking, screeching or groaning in the least. The door played a like note. Amusing it was the horseshoe atop the roman type arch, looking as if plastic, formative yet false. Touching it seemed out of line, to all show ceding a candor it sought to hide.
As each passed through the door, a clear change took place, the inside severing reality, scruffy, plain, and humble, a complete about—face of the exterior . Objects seemingly seeking out favored spots easing as it were the overall life of the place. “Don’t mind the mess,” the attendant said, “I’m just that way. Now I know those papers are here; somewhere?”
“No hurry.” Alex said.
“Really.” the daughter quipped.
“Ah, here we are. The key and a couple of papers. If you would, sign here, and here.”
Alex examined the papers with the eye of a lawyer considering a business contract. Of course, no great mystery followed. Of the two, one showed that the tenant now held the key and the other willed that should the tenant wish to take part in the yearly picnic please note ‘yes’ and sign. Alex took some time, for all one knows stalling, or maybe as a reminder of who was in charge. “There; done.” Alex said.
Alex won the key, then—waiting…heard a cheer, “Yay. Welcome to Longport,” from a now elated attendant.
“Thanks.” Alex said.
“Yes, thanks ؟” the daughter added.
Alex and the daughter left, going back to the car to get a few things from the trunk. Only the item of these remained as homes in Longport came fully equipped with all the dress, furniture, kitchen appliances, utensils, washer and dryer, to name a few.
N O L OVING S PEECHES or drawn out goodbyes. After all, it was only the daughter. Why
Similar Books
