Wednesday, October 7, 2009
They do have Prada
in the desert. No tumbleweeds though.
But the sky was like a baby blue blanket. And I drove deeper and deeper into the desert and deeper and deeper into my mind.
Randomly, at this café, I met this older couple that said I could spend the night in their guesthouse. I looked real hard at the guy to figure out if he was a creep or not. But I saw no signs of it. And the guesthouse is amazing. They said it used to be a chicken coop, but now they've turned it into a southwestern-style dollhouse.
When I had washed the desert dust off my face I sat outside on a chair reading when they both came and joined me, and offered me an O'Douls. They told me that they were both recovering alcoholics and how they had spent half their lives running from themselves. And then they ran into each other and live happily ever after and everything was peachy.
They are total dorks, but sweet. The woman, Betsy, fed me pound cake, and told me that every other month she went to El Paso to have a botox injection in her forehead. What a waste, I wanted to say, but didn't. Her face was chubby, ordinary and criss-crossed with fine lines of time. Her eyes were baby blue like the sky.
Then I drove out into the night. The sky was an unexplored part of the greyscale. I went to see the Marfa Mystery lights.