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      August 28, 2018Sound and SenseErik Campbell

      Genesis 2:19

      Work wouldn’t have understood his mission’s delicacy,
      and why he needed to be naked on Monday instead
      of at the office, buttoned-down and pressed, in order
      to play Garden of Eden, to be The Gardener, weeding
       
      out words that just didn’t fit. He decided to call in sick
      last night, after his wife slammed the door. That is
      the sound of hope losing its feathers, he said after, aloud
      to the hallway mirror which insisted on underscoring
       
      his wrong. The door sounded nothing at all like slam,
      he thought. Perhaps thak. And when the mirror ended
      up smashed it didn’t surprise him that the glass didn’t
      make the sound of succor. But when he later labeled
       
      his cat Meow before bed things seemed a bit better,
      the very air made windy with honesty. Renaming things
      naked in his kitchen the next morning the phone kept
      ringing, but he hadn’t named it yet (he knew ring would
       
      be small, cliché) so it couldn’t be answered. Although
      rechristening nouns in his cupboards and drawers took
      all morning (turning on every appliance and listening
      for verity, dropping each piece of flatware on the floor;
       
      so many silver sounds, he thought, compounding this
      crucial list), the concrete nouns were nothing compared to
      the abstract—although he did manage to successfully rename
      “justice” phoosh while drinking coffee, just after “cook”
       
      became siss. And so softly he progressed through the audible
      afternoon. The coffee soon became brandy, which shortly
      became shllip. By 4 PM she still hadn’t returned (although,
      he surmised, she may have phoned). At 4:30 he struggled
       
      to give “pathetic” more precision and failed. At 5 he decided
      to call his office (having momentarily dubbed “phone” ring
      for utilitarian, not honest, reasons); his secretary answered
      the ring with an easy hello, followed by a deep sigh, sibilating
       
      through the receiver. “How did you know it was me?” he asked.
      “I’m sorry,” she said. “Who’s calling?” It was almost enough
      to make him go upstairs and get dressed, but the stairs were still
      nameless, dangerous; he hadn’t a clue yet where they might lead.
      Erik Campbell is the guest on episode #46 of the Rattlecast. Click here to watch …

      from #28 - Winter 2007

      Erik Campbell

      “I recently left Papua, Indonesia, where my wife and I lived for five years. Although I’m currently homeless and jobless in America, I’m very happy that I can now procure bacon and decent cheese whenever I damn well please.”