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Ginger sighed and swung one leg over the other. Margie’s hand rested on the bench between them, fingers splayed out like she was waiting for someone to hold them. Five lit matches begging for a stick of dynamite. Inch by inch, Ginger’s hand snaked across the bench until it brushed Margie’s. She held her breath and waited. What would it be this time: a joke or not a joke? Real or not real?
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Lately, Margaret has been thinking. About the kind of woman she is and the kind of woman she wants to be when the war is over, which, for a long time, seemed like a nebulous impossibility on the edge of forever but is now rapidly closing in on her, no matter how fast she runs from it.
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Hawkeye realizes he can hear the laugh track, Frank's high school bully ends up at the 4077.
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Something wormed uncomfortably in the pit of Margaret’s stomach. She knew that her nurses congregated without her—stayed up late giggling, gossiping, painting each other's nails, and doing each other's hair (she could always tell. A new issue of Vogue or a style guide would circulate throughout the camp, and half the girls would walk around with Liz Taylor’s curl pattern. Just like clockwork). Sprawled out over each other's bunks with their shirts tied up around their navels, their hair loose around their shoulders.
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It’s February 10, 1946. And you are standing in the kitchen, unaware that your life is about to end. Spaghetti sauce simmers on the stove. You hum a little bit while you stir the pot. And then Carlye says, “I think this was a mistake.”
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In 1952, Peg makes a new friend.
In 1954, Hawkeye catches up with an old one.
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- 80,884
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 14
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NOTHING GOES WRONG. EVERYONE IS FINE. I LIVE IN DENIAL CITY.
- Words:
- 6,030
- Works:
- 3
- Bookmarks:
- 7
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- Words:
- 16,584
- Works:
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- 7
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You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.- Words:
- 15,482
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- 2
- Bookmarks:
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Hawkeye lays a man’s dress shirt out on the bed, and a pair of nicely-made black pants. “They won’t fit you well,” he says apologetically.
Margaret Houlihan is an officer and a gentleman; and anyway, this is all Hawkeye's fault.
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"I love this whole desperate world, every inch and breath and corpuscle of it, and I don’t want it to be taken from me, and I don’t want to be taken from myself.”
1957, and the first US clinical trial of lithium carbonate has just started at Columbia;
or; Hawkeye, one queer, sultry summer in New York.
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Bookmarked by drowninglovers
31 Aug 2023

