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  • Jimmy Broccoli

It Will Be the Man Who is the Pig First

“Saga, did I do the right thing?”


I look directly out the hotel window, beyond the tacky aquamarine curtains -

I can barely see the people walking on the beach below –

they are silhouettes – moving shadows –

beyond is the inky evening harbor and the lamplights on the pier -

and I can feel her presence behind me


“I am pouring you another glass of wine”, says Saga –

Somewhat aggressively, while still remaining feminine -

“half full, please – I cannot drink as a sailor does”, I say–

Saga pours me a full glass and I take it with much gratitude –

“Tell me what happened”, she instructs

I sit down on the edge of the hotel bed, my glass shaky in my hand -

I take a small sip and begin to tell her…



For a second time, I look out the hotel window –

I see the silhouettes; I see the moving shadows on the beach below –

Upon the table, next to the green paisley chair by the window, are two photographs -

“It is them”, Saga says hauntingly –

She then sits down, exhausted, in the green paisley chair and exhales awkwardly while fidgeting with her cigarette case -

“I do not know them”, I say – before returning my stare out the hotel window

“You do”, Saga replies – as she ignites a cigarette in the dim and unflattering hotel room light -

the smoke from her cigarette permeates the room –

it floats in the stale air gently, like lazy-moving clouds –

Saga looks older than I remember – she looks aged

the heavy makeup does not erase her years of experience


She shows me the photos a second time –

“The man in the photo on the left is the Rabbit –

The man in the photo on the right is the Pig”, Saga says

My mind whirls round and round like a carnival ride

…the memories are almost close enough to touch –

the memories are footprints in the sand –

traces – just bits of the whole story…

a handful of crumbs spilled upon the sands of a mile-long beach

“I faintly recognize them, but I remember nothing about them”, I respond

as I stoically look at the photos a third time –

then I stare out the hotel window to watch the moving shadows -

to watch the silhouettes

Saga says nothing, until…


“The lamplights will flicker when it is time

They will flicker as you remember them flickering”, says Saga

“This has all happened before”

I nod my head hesitantly in agreement and am slowly beginning to understand

I turn my gaze away from the silhouettes on the beach beyond the window

and stare at Saga

“The lamplights will flicker at midnight”, I say gloomily after suddenly recalling it

“Yes, they will”, Saga responds


I walk to the in-room mini-bar to pour each of us another glass of wine -

but I hesitate… then say softly and slowly –

“It will be the man who is the Pig first –

He will be followed by the man who is the Rabbit”

My memory begins to unfold, to undress the mysteries

“You’re beginning to remember. This is good”, Saga gently whispers after putting her cigarette out in the metal ashtray


The silhouettes move as shadows along the beach

as the lamplights illuminate the pier

Photo: Jimmy Broccoli

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