oscar’s eleventh chapter: tumbling toward happiness.

Shoes matching each other this time but still untied, Oscar shuffled down the street. Staring through the scorching black pavement toward China, he kicked a pebble that was beginning to resemble, if he looked closely, Venus de Milo. The naked one, with both arms, standing demurely in a big oyster shell by the sea. But now Oscar senses she’s wearing a slippery, seductive shift of vanilla oil, his favorite. The perfume’s lusty smack of ice-creamy bean oil and sweet suggestion snaps the waistband of his brain’s jockeys with a giggle.

2 thoughts on “oscar’s eleventh chapter: tumbling toward happiness.”

  1. The idea of “tumbling toward happiness” probably captures what happens as well as (or better than) any other description: We can’t go out and order a measure of happiness. It happens, while we’re busy bumbling along, thinking about something else, living life as well as we can.


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