Beyond the Discourse of the Wind (ft. Mason)

A rainy Sunday night in ---. Two broadcasters, a man and a woman
recently arrived from Central Park, convene in the cramped
kitchen of the man's lodging with Malbec and Port Salut. There is
much to speak of - the Kinks, a mangled papaya dog, an invective
against tweets by Wallace Shawn (Swan?) - but as their trivial
chatter progresses, a mystery emerges (as it ought in all
literature): who is the third figure in the kitchen? The man and
the woman keep making reference to a Byronic figure they call
Mason, a brooding spectre whom they claim supplies them steadily
with tea, glasses, bound volumes. This 'Mason,' who may or may
not resemble D.H. Lawrence, who may or may not exist, lies at the
heart of the story. The extent to which he will reveal himself
(or be revealed by our protagonists) is the most thrilling part
of the narrative, an adventure of epic sprawl playing out
entirely within the confines of a tiny New York kitchen.


-J. Wood