Night. He pushed the old car hard for the shipyards. Missed an onramp out of San Fernando, dropped onto the streets of Van Nuys. Rushed when he could down the carchoked boulevard. At stops his redlight brakefoot edgy, eager to free the engine from its idle.
Jim Morrison and Jack Kerouac would recognize the Los Angeles you have conjured. “We choose our beliefs in shadows where the streetlights die”. That resonates. I feel more comfortable in LA at night; LA, absent the glare of sunlight, becomes more accessible, easier to digest. “Just another lost angel”, etc. Thank you for this wonderful new story of LA and the shadows that define it.
Thank you, Victor I enjoyed your story as much as the story I made up about you in the spaces between your words. In particular, the (grammatically) incomplete sentences offered larger crevices for my imagination to seep in. I have driven through LA at midnight. But even if I hadn't, your words painted a vivid picture. of the darkness within and without. "... pushed the old car hard for the shipyards" feels to me like my brand of cramming for the finals.
A story built on the foundation of a long haunting poem, and loved how the rhythm and pace felt like a train. . . just perfect.
Jim Morrison and Jack Kerouac would recognize the Los Angeles you have conjured. “We choose our beliefs in shadows where the streetlights die”. That resonates. I feel more comfortable in LA at night; LA, absent the glare of sunlight, becomes more accessible, easier to digest. “Just another lost angel”, etc. Thank you for this wonderful new story of LA and the shadows that define it.
As always, keeps me reading on. Along the way I like brief details like "short sparked and quick drafted onto the shoulder . . ."
This reads like an interlude in a longer, gritty novel. I was in that car, man!
Thank you, Victor I enjoyed your story as much as the story I made up about you in the spaces between your words. In particular, the (grammatically) incomplete sentences offered larger crevices for my imagination to seep in. I have driven through LA at midnight. But even if I hadn't, your words painted a vivid picture. of the darkness within and without. "... pushed the old car hard for the shipyards" feels to me like my brand of cramming for the finals.