Posts Tagged ‘Knickerbockers’

Zoe & Sophia Struggle as they Sally Forth in the Shocking and Shimmering Illumination of Now

June 3rd, 2010 1 comment

June 3rd

Zoe and Sophia are two single women, BFFs for thirty years, and months ago they found themselves unexpectedly cast into a world of chaos and redefinition after decades of being faithful wives to George and Marty. They’ve heard and are grateful for the advice from all who were willing to help them. But the time for advice has passed as they launch into a new phase as the Sublime Consumers of the Lightness of Being. Here is their final adventure of the first “season” of their re-creation.

Tiny white lights strung around budding branches winked as a gusty wind blew through the outdoor café at dusk. Some happy-hour patrons danced to the band’s music booming from the small stage. Several people wore festive masks, which waitresses placed on tables when they delivered drinks. Others laughed as they sat leaning intimately into one another. Longing eyes traveled up and down newcomers who walked into the café on the warm May evening. Self-conscious young women stood in clusters, playing with their hair, picking at their clothes. False bravado spilled from the lips of young men as they spoke too loudly and swaggered in circles around women they were too timid to approach. Young and old sensed the sultry nights of summer to come, nights of expectation, nights that would stir people to abandon themselves to the white heat of passion, grasping for completion through connection. Suddenly, a second, prolong gust of wind blew in showers, and as with the end of a film, the music stopped, people ran for shelter, and the sensuous spell snapped shut.

Zoe and Sophia leapt from their seats then huddled with the rest of the crowd inside the café
“I’m hungry,” said Zoe, tapping Sophia’s arm. “Let’s go get Mexican.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” said Sophia.
“You look like you’re gonna cry.”
“Nah. I’m just tired.”
“Do you wanna go home,” said Zoe.
“To what? To a house filled with packed boxes, rolled up rugs and furniture lined up, ready to be loaded into a U-Haul?” Go home? I have no home. I have no marriage. I have no definition. I have no life that I recognize. I have only ghosts that scream at me from the packed boxes, scepters haunting me from an identity that no longer exists. My life is shit, Zoe.”

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Zoe & Sophia Do NYC and Enjoy Family, Friends and a Wildly Sexy Nightlife with Twenty-Somethings

May 14th, 2010 1 comment

May 14th
Please send your ADVICE to two single women, whose lives are suddenly crashing in chaos! Zoe and Sophia, BFFs for thirty years, find themselves unexpectedly cast into the world of re-creation and redefinition after decades of being faithful wives to George and Marty. They need advice from anyone willing to help them. For instance, what advice would you and your BFF give if you asked each other, “WHAT’S IN THESE GRAB BAGS THAT WE CALL OUR MINDS?” Any advice you can give to Zoe and Sophia would be helpful, but this is what they said to each other.

Blustery air spat rain sideways as the ferry pushed through the harbor. The shoreline rose from the water, piercing the night, indelibly framed by the lights of Manhattan.  Zoe stood on the deck, her face to the sky, arms wrapped around her waist, leaning against the heavy glass door that stood between the cabin and the deck. Ferry lights against the darkness gave her a sepia flush, like the faces of women Anders Zorn painted a hundred years ago. Chill wind whipped her hair from her forehead as she slowly turned her head, revealing calm eyes and a slender smile. Surrounded by strangers pressing against her, Sophia stood inside the warm cabin, looking out through the glass door, nodding as she returned Zoe’s smile.

Zoe and Sophia stepped from the docking ramp and scampered into the terminal, swept along by other night trippers anxious to embark upon their evening excitements. Pushing open their umbrellas, Zoe and Sophia ran from the ferry terminal to the nearby subway station to catch the Number 1 train going uptown. Once seated in the jostling car, Zoe and Sophia sat, heads bent, as they studied a map, searching for the cross street on Seventh Avenue that would put them closest to the jazz club, their destination.

“Now, how do you know this guy, Sophie?”
“Samuel B and I were lovers years ago when he was a student at Berklee College of Music and I was at Emerson.”
“It’s pretty cool that he’s a famous jazz guitarist now.”
“Actually, he’s been famous for a long time, and he’s one of the kindest men I’ve ever known.”
“Too bad you didn’t marry him.”
“Fuck sake, Zoe, I was nineteen at the time. Over the years Samuel B and I kept in touch and saw each other occasionally when I lived in New Your, but it’s been well over a decade since I’ve seen him. I’ve been stuck in New Hampshire far too long.”
“Ya think,” said Zoe. “But, Sophie, I thought you loved New Hampshire.”

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