| 1 c. buttermilk | = | 1 c. milk + 1 T. lemon juice |
| 3 buttermilk pancakes | = | 1 Sunday morning |
| 1 Sunday morning in bed making love to wife | = | 10,000 buttermilk pancakes |
| infidelity | = | 0 Sunday mornings in bed + many nights on couch |
| 1 very tall woman | = | fantasy shared with George Constanza |
| 1 redhead | = | any man’s fantasy |
| 1 very tall redhead flirting with you for weeks | = | fate’s cruel trick, especially after diagnosis of “terminal” |
| lost chance to sow wild oats while young | = | comfort of knowing only her body in a perfect compact |
| confession to wife | = | clear conscience before death + angry wife + couch |
| last time made love to wife | = | can’t remember, I think missionary, that Tuesday before the diagnosis |
| desire to be able to determine the actual last time and to make it special | = | greatest desire + marker of forgiveness |
| being cheated on by dying husband | = | catch 22: how can you not forgive him but then, how can you love someone who uses a “get out of jail free” card on your heart? |
| 3 buttermilk pancakes | = | each morning’s peace offering |
| 1 month w/o sex | = | lifetime in cancerland w/o love |
| 1 night she comes to the couch, sheds nightgown | = | acknowledgement that you are slipping away |
| ≠ | forgiveness | |
Substitutions and Equivalencies by Marty Brick
Filed under Martin Brick
I really like the way this form strips the story down and renders it stark, though not without domestic details.
I usually don’t like this format as story, but there is such a deep story running through the lines that I liked it a lot. Nicely done.
This was very moving.
I think the form works too, because the equivalencies are so individual
Unfolds beautifully, truthfully. Nice use of invention. It stays strong. Really good stuff.
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