He drew the short straw. Blanched. His task unwelcome. She picked the long straw. Blushed. Her task uninvited.
Poem by Samuel Beckett, translated by Samuel Beckett
they come
different and the same
with each it is different and the same
with each the absence of love is different
with each the absence of love is the same
elles viennent
autres et pareilles
avec chacune c’est autre et c’est pareil
avec chacune l’absence d’amour est autre
avec hacune l’absence d’amour est pareille
Either way this (or another) task promised an ordeal. A weight. A heavy weight. A slow but soggy/steady, suffocation dragging dawn the whole way to dusk. The nightly bowl of soup sipped on the low couch, smelling like Dead Sea Soap – salt, sulfur, tears.
“We may have all come on different ships, but we’re in the same boat now.”
An unhappy love is like giving your soul to the devil
Good one, Alison