The Lost and Found of Years by Claude Lalumiere Page A

when she laughs.
    She gives me that look. I love that look.
    We go home and fuck. We have so much fun we can’t stop laughing, even while we’re cumming.
    Still no idea for a story, though.
    I decide to try again with the camera. I don’t bring the dog this time. I give him a cookie instead. He takes it in his mouth and plops himself on the couch.
    Okay. I’m outside. I’ve got the camera.
    Take pictures. Lots of pictures. Old school. With film.
    Buildings. Skylines. People. Dogs. Trees. Stuff on the ground.
    Run out of film pretty fast. Fun, though.
    Dunno if it’ll help me with the story or not.
    I go buy more rolls of film. Lots more. What the hell.
    I feel good.
    I go home and write.
    I write a whole story in one sitting. But it has nothing to do with Jasper’s anthology.
    I reread my new story. I’m pretty happy with it. Needs only a bit of editing. A big turning point in my Lost Pages mythology. I send it off to Klima at
Electric Velocipede
.
    I try the camera thing again. Use up another whole roll. Fun.
    But no new story ideas today. Not for Jasper, and not for anything else.
    I do the camera thing every day now. Sometimes I bring the dog, but it’s too distracting.
    I end up taking lots of walks. Camera walks; and dog walks. I try to leave enough time for writing.
    Story for Jasper. Book for Savory. Novella for Kasturi.
    Today, I notice something weird. But it’s too freaky. I’ll look at the pictures again tomorrow. Probably too tired. Seeing things.
    Halpern on the phone. Wants a new Lost Pages story for a Di Filippo tribute anthology.
    I ask about the money.
    Print on demand, he says. No money up front, but higher royalties. Royalties. Yeah, right.
    I tell him I’ll think about it.
    In bed. Trying to sleep. Girlfriend snoring. It’s kinda cute. Makes me smile. But restless anyway.
    Didn’t use the camera today. Dog walks only. Didn’t write anything.
    Didn’t look at the pictures.
    Don’t want to deal with it. Too weird.
    Can’t get to sleep. Get up. Go look at the pictures.
    I look at the pictures. Of the row of houses across the street from our house. I spread them on my desk. Compare them. And there it is. I can’t deny it.
    I look out the window of my office. Across the street. To that house.
    And there it is.
    Fuck.
    Should I wake her up? Fuck. That makes her grumpy. She’d bite my head off.
    I’m gonna wait till morning.
    Go back to bed.
    Try to sleep.
    Can’t sleep. I have to tell someone. Show someone.
    I whisper girlfriend’s name. Touch her shoulder.
    She mumbles. Doesn’t really wake up.
    I try harder. Say her name. Once. Twice. Little shake.
    She mumbles again and turns away from me.
    I shake her harder. Say her name and, You have to wake up. I need to talk to you.
    She turns toward me. Opens her eyes. She’s not happy.
    She gets up. Reluctantly. Puts on a T-shirt.
    Dog lifts his head to see what’s going on, but then he moves around and settles on my pillow.
    I drag the girlfriend into my office.
    She is annoyed, but not biting my head off.
    Good.
    She can tell that I’m really upset. Takes it seriously. Takes me seriously.
    I show her.
    Look, I say. Look. Look.
    I point to that house, on a whole bunch of different photos.
    She doesn’t get it.
    She says, It’s that house across the street. So what?
    I say, Don’t you notice something weird?
    She doesn’t get it.
    I drag her to the window. I point to the house across the street.
    Look. Look!
    I hold a picture of that row of houses in each hand. Pictures from two different days.
    Look at these. Then look outside. That house. There! Don’t you see?
    No, she doesn’t.
    Fuck.
    Why the fuck did you wake me up, she says. Is this another of your stupid jokes, she says.
    No.
    We fight.
    It gets ugly.
    She gets dressed and storms out of the house.
    I shouldn’t have woken her up.
    Okay. Calm down.
    Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
    Stupid house.
    Fuck you, stupid fucking house across the street.
    Girlfriend always says I don’t notice