I cannot move so I cannot touch. Only be touched, which is not the same. My limbs do not respond to my desires. My body resists. All I have is my voice, and, now, this machine that writes what I say. It heeds my commands. I tell it to send my messages to you. It sends them. And I wait.
You respond, describing our intimacy.
I tell the machine what to write back.
We are responding each to the other. Our words touch, stroke, explore. Our words admire.
Our words deceive.
Bidding farewell I rise and stretch. I make a sandwich then logon again. Another site. Another fiction. Your message describes what I cannot see.
2011-Richard Holt / small stories about love (smallstoriesaboutlove.wordpress.com)
A writer from Melbourne, Richard maintains a number of blogs exploring very short fiction and text-based art practices. His stories and poems have been published in both mainstream and alternative journals and collections. He is also a visual artist and was co-founder of both Platform Artists Group and zine store, Sticky. He continues to publish very short fiction and conduct microfiction workshops for practicing writers, students and others. He has created numerous text-based installations and artworks for public spaces, including at Federation Square, Melbourne and in conjunction with the 2017, Newcastle Writers Festival.
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One thought on “Persona”
The writing mirrors the writer, as the saying goes in Chinese 文如其人(wen ru qi ren).