C4 antho - Chamber Four

Liz Phair and the Most Perfect
Sentence
________
by Andrea Uptmor
from Hot Metal Bridge
It always starts with me getting hit by a car. I am walking
along the edge of the road, scuffing my sneaker on the curb. I
am in a funk. My shoulders are slumping in a sort of what’sthe-purpose-of-anything
posture. Maybe I got another rejection
letter at the post office, or the grocery store declined my
credit card. No, scratch that―I did get groceries. Yes, I am
carrying them, and in fact, a pair of apples flies into the air
upon the enormous impact, blocking out the sun in two distinct
spots like a reverse domino. It is a very sunny day. When
I hit the ground, I break something―an arm, an ankle―and I
hear it crunch. The driver of the car gets out and runs to my
crumpled body, pieces of blonde hair twisting behind her like
prayer flags in the wind. She looks down at me.
It is Liz Phair.
Her face blocks the sun completely, and thus she is
shrouded in a nimbus of holy yellow light like a William
Blake revelation angel. Her beauty commands a profound silence
over all of the elements. The wind stops, the traffic falls
mute. Then Liz Phair says, “Oh fuck,” and the world begins
to spin again. White bone is sticking out of my arm or ankle.
A bus has run over the rest of my groceries, smearing peanut
butter as if the pavement was toast. I am not in terrible pain.
I watch her panic. I have never thought Liz Phair would be
the kind of woman to wear a hoodie. It is faded green, softer
than kittens.
She takes me to the hospital. She curses the whole way.
She is Liz Phair. The radio is off when she helps me into the