In kindergarten, my friends and I used to play a game with the globe in our classroom. We would put our finger on it and spin it around really quickly, and wherever our finger landed when the globe stopped spinning was where we would live. I did a similar thing, tonight, while having insomnia, and playing with my full-length e-text of The Bell Jar.
“From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out.”
I was only allowed one paragraph.
Itinerantdaughter's Blog 
Leave a Reply