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2002-03-16
Louisa May Alcott
B. 11.29.1832 Germantown, Pennsylvania / 3.6.1888 Boston
Spinal Meningitis
A survey of the lesbian Everest expedition team so far
Murray Hill is with me, when she can overcome her frustration. (You know how sometimes you don�t want someone but the benefits of their proximity seem nothing to sneeze at either?) Nobody�s perfect!
The Guinness Book girl�for this turns out to be the reason why she�s memorizing every name in the Times Portrait of Grief Gallery. Most people are much less intriguing than their behavior.
Unhappily Single, and sloppy about keeping secret a big crush on at least one of the others�although which I can�t tell. �And here let me premise that if any of the elders think there is too much �lovering� in the story, as I fear they may (I'm not afraid the young folks will make that objection), I can only say with Mrs. March, What can you expect when I have four gay girls in the house, and a dashing young neighbor over the way?�
The beautiful one who�s since been injured by a drunken driver�perhaps the most promising of the bunch if I really mean to learn the secret of the summit. The other girls� most vigorous coaching sessions and urgent on-the-spot facial entreaties have once again failed to keep her from testifying that she herself was asleep at the wheel. The gavel falls�on guile being vanquished, with a bang? Or was that just the back door slamming on her poor wits� flight, fleeter than Bejesus, from the words �I swear�? Ding dong!
The latter too likely. Another monstrous mother lode of icy trauma calling!
Picture them huddled there�fluorescent, freezing�on the naked rock face�squeezing breathless debate out of lips they cannot feel. A tiny cluster of tree frogs, peering up through a sudden gloom and ice-rimed goggles at the last fifty infinite yards. Some voices trill �Me Too!� into the void, to no avail.
Quotation from Little Women (1869)