Letter in Columnar (excerpt)
So I'm driving
down a street
that looks like
a street in
Milwaukee.
Walking across
the parking lot
of an ice cream
joint is a girl
I know.
I pull in and get
out of my car,
I take a
pillow and
a sleeping bag with me.
I don't know why...
She's walking toward me
with her arms open
and I realize I
don't know her.
She realizes this at
the same time I do
Instantly,
we walk in different
directions,
away from each other.
I feel people
staring at me
walking down
the street with
an unrolled
sleeping bag and a
pillow.
When I get into my
car,
two effeminate
gay boys are sitting
in the back seat.
I tell them get
the fuck out of
my car!
"No way" they say.
One of them tries
to light a cigarillo.
I pinch out the match
"No fucking way are
you smoking in my car."
I start driving
fast,
dangerous,
trying to scare
the shit out of
them.
I wake up and
notice I left my
shades up, it's
sunny out. I'm thinking
it's 11am or so.
I go look at
the clock. It's
7:30. I pull
down the shades
and go back
to sleep.
I don't dream.
This piece is all over the place, like a fever dream you can't quite shake. The writer uses short, fragmented lines to create a sense of disorientation and unease, which definitely works in building tension. The image of the protagonist walking down the street with a pillow and sleeping bag is bizarre and unsettling, hinting at a deeper psychological state. However, the sudden shift into a confrontation with "effeminate gay boys" feels jarring and stereotypical, relying on tired tropes rather than nuanced characterization. The abrupt ending, where he simply stops dreaming, leaves the reader hanging without resolution or insight. While the piece has some interesting stylistic elements, it ultimately lacks cohesion and depth, leaving me feeling more confused than engaged.
—gemma2:27b, 2026-02-12