Uncategorized | October 11, 2004
Last-Minute Changes, 1994-2004: A Celebration
[By Anthony Varallo]
Mattress store, Daly City, CA. September, 1997. After long deliberation, I decide against buying an expensive pillow-top mattress, settling for a cheaper brand. I drive the mattress home, strapped to the top of my Toyota Cressida. I am about to heave the mattress inside when I realize how truly sad it is, decorated with pastel flowers, sagging in the middle. At the last minute I drive the mattress back, where the same two teenagers who’d strung twine through my passenger window help me exchange the mattress for the better one. That night I dream of clouds.
Writing desk, Iowa City, IA. Spring, 1996. I decide it will be harrowing to kill the lead character in a story I’m working on. At the last minute I realize I lack the medical knowledge to do so, and leave the character alone. The story ends with a dog barking instead.
Italian restaurant, Newark, DE. Fall, 1994. I order angel hair pasta with calamari, and a house salad. At the last minute I change my order to gnocchi with marinara sauce. Later, I see the man across from me order the calamari, chewing like he’s downing erasers.
Writing desk, Columbia, MO. Summer, 2002. Working towards a deadline, I decide I will revive a story I’ve abandoned about a mysterious little girl who leaves hidden messages inside pinecones. At the last minute I scrap the story when I realize it’s about a mysterious little girl who leaves hidden messages inside pinecones.
Halloween party, Columbia, MO. October, 2000. Since the weather is unseasonably warm, I decide I’ll attend a Halloween party in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. At the last minute I switch to a long-sleeved shirt and jacket. That night the temperature drops. People costumed in garbage bags huddle by a fire.
Writing desk, Columbia, MO. October, 2004. I decide to write a web editorial that will remind people to enter our Editors’ Prize/Larry Levis Prize contest, whose deadline is October 15, 2004. Postmark, or by online submission. At the last minute I end up writing about a mattress instead.
Friday, October 15, 2004. All across the world thoughtful postal workers stamp your stories, essays, and poems with a happy postmark. Your entries arrive days later, here in Columbia, MO, where a group of enthusiastic readers attempt to open them with bare hands, teeth. At the last minute, Dedra, our office manager, hands us a letter opener.
SEE THE ISSUE
SUGGESTED CONTENT
Poem of the Week
Jan 22 2024
“Grace” by Becca Klaver
This week’s Poem of the Week is “Grace” by Becca Klaver. Becca Klaver is the author of the poetry collections LA Liminal (Kore), Empire Wasted (Bloof), and Ready for the… read more
Poem of the Week
Jan 15 2024
“Ravens Flying” by Kai Carlson-Wee
This week’s Poem of the Week is “Ravens Flying” by Kai Carlson-Wee. Kai Carlson-Wee is the author of RAIL (BOA Editions, 2018). He received his MFA from the University of… read more
Poem of the Week
Jan 08 2024
“Collision of Light and Dark” by Allison C. Macy-Steines
This week’s Poem of the Week is “Collision of Light and Dark” by Allison C. Macy-Steines. Allison C. Macy-Steines writes both prose and poetry, and she is passionate about bending… read more