#diane williams

[biblioklept]

"Lifeguard," a very short story by Diane Williams

“Lifeguard” by Diane Williams We had tried we had tried my mother and I to get someone to help us stop the flood in the house. We had tried to get some man. So that when my father and the man who guards my father returned, but when they were not yet inside the house, I went out to them. That man who guards my father was sizing me up like he was wild. His head was on its side in midair bouncing,…

[7r0773r]

Fine, Fine, Fine, Fine, Fine by Diane Williams

Lavatory

There had been the guest’s lavatory visit—to summarize. She did so want to be comfortable then and for the rest of her life. She had been hiking her skirt and pulling down her undergarment, just trying not to fall apart.

Once back in the foyer, she brought out a gift for her host. “I tried to find something old for you to put on your mantel, but I just couldn't. I tried to find something similar to what you already have, to be on the safe side, but I couldn't.”

It was difficult for the guest to comprehend easily what the other invitees were saying, because she wasn't listening carefully. One man happened to have a son who knew her son. He had learned something of importance about her son—about his prospects. Something.

But the guest interrupted him, “I don't agree that there is a comfortable space for each of us out there and we have to find it. I think this is so wrong. It assumes there is a little environment that you can slip into and be perfectly happy. My notion is you try to do all the things you're comfortable with and eventually you will find your comfortable environment.”

A man they called Mike smoked a maduro and he had a urine stain on his trouser fly. He was very attentive to the host and to his wife Melissa.

“Stop!” his wife cried, but he’d done it already—tipped the ashtray he’d used the dimpled copper bowl—into the grate behind the fire screen. The ashes fell down nicely, sparsely. There was still some dark, sticky stuff leftover in the bowl.

The host called, “Kids! Mike! Dad and Mom!” He called these copulators to come in to dinner. In fact, this group represented a predictable array of vocations—including hard workers, worriers, travelers, and liars—defecators, of course, urinators and music makers.

***

The Poet

She carves with a sharply scalloped steel blade, makes slices across the top of a long, broad loaf of yeasted bread for the dog who begs and there’s a cat there, too.

She holds the loaf against her breast and presses it up under her chin. But this is no violin! Won’t she sever her head?

***

Head of the Big Man

The family was blessed with more self-confidence than most of us have and with a great lawn, with arbors and beds of flowers, and with a fountain in the shape of a sun at the south end. It is not our purpose to say anything imprecise about their scheme, how they had gotten on with tufted and fringed furniture, with their little tables, a parquet floor, a bean pot.

The walls inside of this country house were amber-colored where they entertained quite formally—until the old mansion was destroyed.

It was a shapely shingle-style house, with bulbous posts.

But what kind of confident people behave poorly by not being confident enough?

Let us examine the case.

Eldrida Cupit had given birth to four children. Three of these and their father drowned trying to cross the Quesnel River in a boat. She later married Mr. Cupit and had many more children. “Imp,” as she was known, was famous for her fresh peach sour cream pie, her steak shortcake, and more significantly for her élan.

People often saw her husband Blade on the street and he not only was polite, but he invited many personally to his home to hear about his rough riding days and his numerous good works.

In her later years, Mrs. Cupit dressed slowly for dinner and did not intend nor want to see anyone, except for her husband at dinner.

Frequently her husband left the table before she arrived and then edged himself up the back stairs.

He began to drink and lost all of his money after his wife died.

Often, as in this tale, a downpour with thunder and lightning is sufficiently full-bodied to get somebody’s whole attention. In one such storm Mr. Cupit had a vision of his wife. Her clothing was not exactly cut to fit and she showed no sign of affection. “Well, act like you’re not going up a hill,” his wife said, ‘but you're still going to go up it!”

For a while, after their deaths, their residence was open to tourists who were apt to get exhausted touring it.

The diamond-shaped hall, placed in the center—its dimensions and spaciousness were rooted, were grounded as if the hall was growing as an ample area. It was finished in mahogany. The dominant message here being: “Looks like one of you splurged!”

None of this would have been possible without the involvement of morally strong, intelligent people who were then spent.

Young farmers and rural characters, obstetrical nurses, scholars, clergy—all the rest!—will have their great hopes realized more often than not—unless I decide to tell their stories.

***

Greed

Each child had a claim to a pile of jewelry when my paternal grandmother died—and how did they determine who was to have which pile?

The heirs were sent into an adjacent room and a trustee called out loudly enough to be heard by all of them—”Who will have this pile?”

My father said he shouted—”August Wilhelm will have this pile!”

Thus, my mother eventually received two gem-set rings that she wore as a pair until she achieved an advanced age and then she amalgamated the two of them into one—so that the diamonds and the sapphires were impressively bulked together.

I had to have it. It was a phantasmagoria. I selected it after my mother's death, not because I liked it, but because it offers the memory of my mother and of the awkward, temporarily placed cold comfort that she gave me.

It's hard to believe that our affair was so long ago.

***

The Skol

In the ocean, Mrs. Clavey decided to advance on foot at shoulder-high depth. A tiny swallow of the water coincided with her deliberation. It tasted like a cold, salted variety of her favorite payang congou tea. She didn't intend to drink more, but she did drink—more.

***

Bang Bang on the Stair

I said, “Would you like a rope? You know that haul you have is not secured properly.”

“No,” he said, “but I see you have string!”

“If this comes into motion—” I said, “you should use a rope.”

“Any poison ivy on that?” he asked me, and I told him my rope had been in the barn peacefully for years.

He took a length of it to the bedside table. He had no concept for what wood could endure.

“Table must have broken when I lashed it onto the truck,” he said.

And, when he was moving the sewing machine, he let the cast iron wheels— bang, bang on the stair.

I had settled down to pack up the flamingo cookie jar, the cutlery, and the cookware, but stopped briefly, for how many times do you catch sudden sight of something heartfelt?

I saw our milk cows in their slow parade in the pasture and then the calf broke through with a leap from behind—its head was up, its forelegs spread.

“Don’t leave!” Mother screamed at me, and she had not arrived to help me.

She tripped and fell over a floor lamp’s coiled electrical cord.

There's just a basic rule of conduct that applies here—also known as a maxim—so I held out my hand.

She gripped and re-gripped my palm hard and all of my fingers before hoisting herself by pulling on me.

She kept tugging on my hand on her deathbed also for a long stretch, until she died. For don’t little strokes fell great oaks?

A girl from the neighborhood rang the bell today to ask if I had a balloon. I didn’t have any and I hadn’t seen one in years.

“That's all you need?” I asked her. “How about some string?”

I noticed that the girl’s eyes were bright and intelligent and that she was delighted, possibly with me.

I went to search where I keep a liquid-glue pen, specialty tape, and twine. I kept on talking while I pawed around for some reason in the drawer.

[warningsine]

[diioonysus]

roman & greek gods + art

[muffintonic]

I sense division in this double-dutch team.

[rileykeouhg]

And oddly enough, knowing Franck was at the house made me feel better. Although I have no idea what he did there all day.

FATHER OF THE BRIDE PART II (1995) dir. Charles Shyer

[colonellickburger]

William Gedney. Diane Arbus, bodybuilding competition, 1969

[pierppasolini]

Strait-Jacket (1964) // dir. William Castle

[quynnns]

I love cinematic parallels 🥰

[weirdlookindog]

The Plague of the Zombies (1966) - Super 8mm

[dr-archeville]

September 5th, 2022 marks the 30th anniversary of Batman: The Animated Series.  Here are members of the #BTAS voice cast photographed by Michael Leshnov: Kevin Conroy (the Batman), Aron Kincaid (Killer Croc), Mark Hamill (the Joker), Arleen Sorkin (Harley Quinn), Diane Pershing (Poison Ivy), Paul Williams (the Penguin), and Richard Moll (Two-Face).

[90ssuperheroes]

Some of the voice actors for Batman the Animated Series: Kevin Conroy (Batman), Paul Williams (Penguin), Richard Moll (Two Face), Diane Pershing (Poison Ivy), Arlene Sorkin (Harley Quinn), Aron Kincaid (Killer Croc), and Mark Hamill (Joker)

[warningsine]

[citizenscreen]

Diane McBain and Van Williams for “Surfside 6,” circa 1960.

[luckydiorxoxo]

2024 Vanity Fair Oscars After Party Arrivals

[chernobog13]

Dian the Beautiful held captive by an evil Mahar, by William Stout.