I'm in
Pathmark, rummaging through the freezer
bins. The shelves on top are filled with miniature
plants, tiny replicas of the ones I know. I start
moving them around, reaching to the back, trying to
find one like my German Ivy. The pots are tiny, the
size of
shot glasses, the leaves
miniscule
perfection.
Now I am sorting through the bin, I have about a
dozen pens arrayed in my hands. Instead of an eraser,
each on sports a miniature Barbie sort of head,
painted and with long tresses. I am trying to get
a pleasant variety. My favorite is the one with
pink hair in spikes, the pencil is dressed in black
leather and metal. There are 3 Nicole Kidman pencils
for every other one.
I am going to take the plants and pencils home,
I will set up the pencils in a miniature trough of
sand, leaving only the heads showing. I can't wait.
The bitch comes over and tries to take Nicky out of
my hand.
That one's mine,I yelp.
She tugs
and I tug.
There are other ones, see?
I show her the bin, she rolls her eyes.
I find myself on a podium, explaining to a crowd of
sympathetic women that the pencils are for my cousin,
she lives in Israel. She has a dog named after Nicole
Kidman. She has had her long, dark hair shaved off.
I hold up the pencil as proof. The nubby pink eraser
is covered with uneven black prickles, stubble on my
cousin's head.
My cousin Avi is not a pencil.
Her hair is long and soft.
I wake up.