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'Wuthering Heights: Book 1 - Telemachus with Nestor', by D.M. Rice

 

Wuthering Heights is an experimental redaction in the style of the William Burroughs cut ups. The source texts are The Odyssey, The Book of Margery Kempe, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, and Stoner by John Williams.

Leaving the waters of the worried. The firmament to bring light, to plough the earth and perish. The stately citadel of sea-breach sacrificing jet-black bulls—Earthquake, god of the sable locks. In session, with five hundred men burning out on the sandbar, slipping as the trim ship bearing her lips went up and down, brailed up the sail, moored their [     ]. Telemachus, the goddess with the flashing hand, as if this helped her, said ‘Telemachus, you must...sea dusk.’ [        ] dwindle as the pull of his search edged off. I shivered. The stones lay lumpish. Nestor, the tamer of horses, thought longingly of the truth from his lips. The drench seemed blind. I greet him? Remember that I saw [    ] littered about the sea that the gods have—. Since your birth led off at a quick pace, Telemachus, my flesh winced. I pick up my pocket-book...Pylos were assembled in stone.

He sounded splendid East, the Sun leapt up into the immortals and to men who hitched closer.  Travellers now came to Pylos, but I knew without looking they found people on peanut shells. To Poseidon, Lord of the Money, there were nine companies. Each and every company tasted the victims’ entrails. A woman was indeed coming, the god’s honour, and no doubt cursing to herself, for the crew disembarked. Athene, last to leave the ship, eyes turned to him now and forgot your diffidence: there is no thickening the seas. I could sense the boy’s bones lie buried and increased over a few stones, as on land – blessed may God be. Brother and me grouped together I couldn’t think who had taken Dodo Conway; the three of us one—this picture. To London, clad in a canvas cloth, a kind...a dark, midnight picture of her [      ] as she had gone overseas. People in a wood. I thought people knew her well enough.

Because I looked queer and unusually short about people, but dogs, Bloodhounds! A handkerchief in front of her face. Police Sgt. Bill Hindly says: Girl Found Alive! 

Some dissolute persons—Lynn said, ‘Ah, you false flesh, you shall comfort her for our reason.’ 

So they sailed on until they opened suitcase and came up with a party, got company to travel for Canterbury by herself alone black lips spread in a grin. I’m [ ] she had no company [ ] tart picture [ ] up early in the morning [ ] ear-rings and Bloomington knocking at the door. The good will. She prayed him. MOTHER WORRIED. The Canterbury [ ]. How this girl disappeared—trouble—wearing a green skirt. Her desire and her [ ] . She had great joy in our Lord, saying she was taking long in every need, and if not returned by midnight, call the police. Much sobbing and weeping, so that it cannot all be written. The sea as on this side, water cold under my bare feet. Black shoes on the beach. A wave advanced and touched my foot. To come off the sea floor itself, light through sharks’ teeth and whales’ earbones just like gravestones. In London, many could make my decision for me. She was not dressed as she collapsed over my feet, lipped with white money, and wishing to go—she gripped my ankles with a mortal ache. Arrange a loan: she held cowardice from such a death. Notwithstanding that she started back over the cold posing [ ] was Mar. Kempe their vigil in the violet light. These words of

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