Earth, By MICHAEL FRIEDMAN

I left the castle happy to have met the king. The theatre was empty except for our group. The lights dimmed, and the movie began. A gentle rise of sand and palms. Jerome tilted his head. The theorems on the blackboard were confusing, so I copied off Yoshi’s notes. Jerome and Elaine fell into a deep sleep. As the plane touched down, they became nervous with anticipation. Who can figure the jealousy of the gods? The sky darkened, rain fell. The Red Chinese approached from the opposite direction. I played dead. Then the smoke cleared. The exigencies of approaching dawn. No sooner had we entered the classroom than our cocktails arrived. After two dozen, the pattern of the day came into focus. Above, a gentle stirring. Below, silence.

From “Special Capacity” (Intermezzo: $8.95; 81 pp.). Michael Friedman is the publisher and literary editor of the New York literary arts magazine Shiny.

1992 Michael Friedman. Reprinted by permission.