Member-only story
The following is a novel-length text generated for NaNoGenMo 2019, inspired by the film “Last Year At Marienbad”.
Corridors. Salons. Corridors. Salons. Corridors. Doors. Salons.
Corridors.
Gardens, arranged with geometrical rigidity. Gardens.
The gardens were guarded by two statues on plinths. Some nameless figures, mythological.
Carpets. Hangings. Stairs, steps. It's not that I cannot lose, but that I have never lost.
Month or last year or last year or Perhaps it was Caguas, or right here.
Gardens arranged in a comforting geometry. Empty Corridors. Doors. Salons...
Thornaby-on-Tees Chairs. Hangings. Frying pan
No, it's nothing.
Deep armchairs.
I have been waiting for weeks.
It was last years or last century or
Perhaps it was Brighouse, or right here... It was last month or It was last year, or perhaps last years...
Empty Salons... or last years, or perhaps last century... It was last month, at Bridport...
, at Casper.
Empty chairs, deep armchairs, thick carpets... It was last year or year, or perhaps last week. Steps, one after the other.Steps, one after another. Hangings. Bottle of syrup Deep armchairs.
Salons. Corridors. Salons. Salons. Corridors. Salons. Salons. Corridors. Doors. Doors. Salons. Salons. Empty Corridors... Steps, one after the other.Steps, one after another. Salons. Empty chairs. Hangings...
Hangings. Stairs, steps. Hangings. Stairs. Hangings. Heavy hangings. It was last month or It was last year or
Perhaps it was Bradley Stoke, or right here... Perhaps it was Carterton, or right here...
Empty Corridors. Doors. Salons. Empty…
