Black Boxes. Caroline Smailes

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Black Boxes - Caroline Smailes

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don't now.

       ~Or do I?~

      Perhaps I do.

      I still think of those ailing soft and sugary tones.

      I sometimes enjoy them within the memory.

      But.

      And there is always at least one but with you.

      Then you said that, everything will be fine.

      And then you said, abortions are practically routine these days.

      [voiced: abortion]

      [volume: high]

      And that was when I pulled out of the tight tight hug.

       ~Do you remember those words?~

       ~Any of those words?~

      [voiced: abortion abortion abortion]

      [volume: high]

      An abortion.

      Abortion is a red word.

      It brings red.

      Red seeps out from each letter and it drip drops to the floor.

      It makes the view from here red.

      Noun: Abortion.

      Etymology: I can't remember.

       ~Why can't I remember?~

      The termination of a pregnancy through the removal of a foetus or embryo.

      The noun drips red before my eyes.

      Abortion or abortive.

      Perhaps I can't recall the etymology because the adjective came first.

      I am focusing on the noun.

      I know the word abortus.

      It is the past participle of aborire.

      I believe that it means to disappear.

      But then I recall aborire meaning to miscarry.

      Past participle.

       ~Am I making up words now?~

      Words sound familiar.

      They roll from my tongue.

      Meaning seems to be lost.

      I am not what I once was.

      [silence]

      You knew everything about me.

       ~You used to know everything about me.~

      About the me before I was the +ANA in ALEX+ANA.

      It was a consequence of being friends first.

      So you knew.

      You knew that I had had an abortion.

      After man number seven.

      Three days before man number eight.

      I didn't wait.

      The intercourse with man number eight, ended with his cock dripping my terminated foetus' blood. Onto my stomach.

      I had wanted to be back to normal.

      I had wanted to be normal, to pretend that the abortion had never happened.

      That was when I knew normal.

      When I could recognise my normal self.

      I sometimes wonder if I love that dead foetus more than I do my own breathing children.

      [six second silence]

      You knew that I had been pregnant before.

      And that I'd decided not to have that baby.

      That foetus.

      That foetus was sucked out of me.

      [sound: a sucking noise]

      And you knew that I'd just gotten on with the whole thing.

      On my own.

      Without making a fuss or protest.

      I never liked commotion.

      And you probably saw my actions as calculated and cold.

      I didn't think.

      I didn't consider before the event.

      And then afterwards there was nothing that I could do.

      [sound: sobbing]

      [volume: high]

      I'd had an aboration.

      Just like I'd had a packet of crisps.

      And I'd had a cold.

      And I'd had my purse stolen when I was sightseeing in Trafalgar Square.

       ~Have I ever been to London?~

      [sound: a guttural laugh]

      Context.

      It is always about context.

      A single form, a lexical item can function differently depending on the context and often the co-text.

      Traditional word class categories are often too rigid when analysing in relation to context.

      The key is to provide as much contextual information as possible.

      And I am giving you the context.

      The pragmatics are there to be considered.

       ~A hide and seek of meaning?~

      The words and sounds and the silence combine.

      The picture is created.

      You see.

      Abortion is a red raw word.

      It scrapes and then it scabs.

      And red oozes from it.

      Even when it appears

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