the magic of chekhov

40 stories in the order in which they were written
by robert payne

read the introduction
and the little apples up to page 10.

i like him
ilike his writing
just writes about appearances

mentioned teh ashtray and wrote a story about i or whatever

reminded me of the time of the coffeepot on the stove
wrote a description of the coffeepot.
one sentence
three sentences then a paragraph.

to do list today
cp one half hour
i thought it was an hour but not.

read awarencess for half an hour

have to bring my machine to work to ship back.

two boxes of books to go in the car.

need to get sungalsses.

would like to go to the movies.

make lunch and go withjohn

called bob cummings.

got a little pissed because now everythime i come to the library
rules set in.

yo need i.d. to use the computer for a half hour.

then if there is nobody there after the half hour
you can use it for an hour.

of course the whole library is empty and there are ten
computers and i am the only one using the computer.
but you have to give them something to do
so they enforce the rules.
boy, does that bug me.
there go my good intentions about being bugged.

i need to do my transcripts
i need to call advantaqge software set up the freelance page.


buddy turned his head his eyes searching the darkness.
he had done this before when he lay in his bed in the darkness
willing Cheryl to feel him. I hadn't worked then and he knew
it wouldn't work now.

it was all make believe, but he squeezed his eyes shut and his brain stopped.
Cheryl, you will feel me. You will think me. You will see me.

"No, I won't the voice whispered back. I have another life now and you are not in it."

"I'm sorry if i hurt you Cheryl, "i'm sorry." his heart cried out but
no tears came.

He knew it was his fault. all of it was.
he knew it and he wouldn't blame her if she had moved on.

It was many years later. it was the same bar, the same scene.

She had married Adam and he had gone to New York to pursue his
writing career.

Yet here he lay in his bed thinking of the las time they saw each other.

It didn't matter.
What's the use.

She was gone.

But she lived in his memory.
Could memories be live. He didn't think so no in the reality of
humaness.

But what about the reality of what if's?

What if he had never gone to New York.

What if Cheryl and him had met at Ned's bar that night?

What if they had a midnight supper and he had proposed and
she said, yes.

Then wouldn't he be writing this from a different perspective?

Buddy covered his eyes with his hands. they lay still for a
moment on his forehead and then he nudged his glasses back on his
nose.

Cheryl on the other hand lay on her full size bed waiting for
her husband Mickey to finish brushing his teeth.

this wasn't what she had bargained for from life

A husband, two kids. she loved them, but then there was
always something nagging at her brain. what if? what if?

What if what she murmered out loud

her mind flashed back to buddy her friend and lover from her
20's. buddy? what the? where did that thought come from?

she sat up in bed and the blue cotton sheet fell away showing
a young girl in a blue slip. her red hair was in a pony tail and she
swung her ivory white legs over the side of the bed.

Damn, she said. Not tonight Buddy, not tonight you don't.
You are not invading my dreams or my life, not tonight. No,
you are not she said out loud.

Her husband came out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand.
Honey, --

that is what i wrote on the phone call last night. so i just
put it on the blog.
i am going to go back and read what i wrote about pete, jake,
melanie, molly and meghan.