Chasing Feinman

(19,189 Words)

this is a brief excerpt:


I’ve been chasing Feinman since I was twenty-one. By that, I mean, beyond the man himself, I’m after the ideal of true love and all its promise.

I met Jakob Lee Feinman when I was just nineteen. Two years older than me, Jake was pre-Med in his last year of school at Washington University in St. Louis when our paths crossed. It was all quite by chance, really, and who would know it would turn out to be so storybook? It saved my life. And it sort of ruined it, too. Ruined me. For anyone else who came along after Feinman, that is.

It was a night like most others at the Central West End bar where I worked nights since turning eighteen, the legal age to peddle booze in our town. The place, called The International, had live music most nights and drew a crowd consisting of hospital workers, college students, foreign tourists and local artsy, bohemian types. It was a fun place to work and hang out. In summer months, an outdoor patio would shimmer and pulse with colorful intellect under Campari umbrellas and cicada-filled trees. The autumn of my nineteenth year brought a new bartender into the place.

. . .

© 2017, Mary Corbin.

Chasing Feinman is from the “Life Lines” collection. Featured artwork: “Cards on the Table #1” – painting by Mary Corbin. No reprints without permission.

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