Sport 42: 2014
R worries about the plants. The summer they’ve had, and lately, the rain that’s poured from the sky. In his worry—a moment’s darkness in his eyes—there are gardens of stressed ferns and dahlias, and everything that grows, stricken with incurable diseases. X worries about his small shiny dog, finding his fears in dreams where the dog is slippery or broken so he can’t hold her above people’s heads on the monstrously crowded train. Y worries about what X worries about. He should worry over more meaningful things—perhaps the dog is an avatar for these fears? She puts her worry into the river of things she cures in her mind. S worries about the sales of his inventions, ideas that have run through old wooden houses and roadsides flashing past like a film—all this may not be redeemed. X and Y talk about S’s worry, turning it over and over, and then spitting it out. Y worries that they’re being smug. She knows how desire blots out the sun. Then she writes the word ‘replaceable’ in a notebook and worries about slipperiness. S dwells on the thought of having no plants to eat—he’d leave immediately for another country. He invites X and Y to go with him. His friends are quiet, worrying about how they’d earn a living, and how they couldn’t live exactly as they do now.