Mime of the Year
It is on the advice of the doctor that I am sending you this voicemail, Markie. I assume you heard the news as it was published everywhere this morning. I was named Mime of the Year by the Coalition for the Maintenance of Offline Art Works. They’re sending me a medal and a large blown glass award in the mail this week. Apparently, I’m the top practicing mime in the Western Hemisphere and for this I’ve been widely applauded. When I got the email telling me I won, I had to sign an acknowledgement and acceptance of the award, which was sent to me electronically. The main condition of the acknowledgement is that I can’t speak aloud anymore.It’s not really an issue. I don’t think that my worth has ever been in my words, even though some seem to view this imminent change in my lifestyle as depressing. Clearly, I have a lot of talent to share with the world, even if it must be done, by its very nature, in silence.
I don’t think you know that I loved you when we were young, so I might as well say it now. It was the color of your eyes that got me, Markie; they’re like Italian espresso with dark chocolate swirled through.
I don’t know if you remember when we drove the PCH with your brother, and you and I screamed out the sunroof all the way across. The air by the Pacific was so thick that I could taste the layers of salt, fish scales, and high-end garbage that were macerated by the mouth of the coastline to form it. I lost my voice for almost a week after that but I secretly treasured the rawness of my throat. When it healed, I felt I’d lost you again. Then you went and got engaged to Steffany from Beverly Hills High School and I knew we were not to be in this lifetime. They are removing my vocal cords this afternoon after which I will be the true actualization of the mime, which is the greatest honor I could hope to achieve. I am truly looking forward to giving myself over to my work in the way that the Coalition promotes. At this point in my life, my work is the only thing I have of value to offer the world.
If you are in Northwest Minnesota anytime in the next few years, I’ll be in residency at the local community college, put up by the Coalition. It would be nice to see your face again if you want to come see me perform. Bring Steffany of course, and your twins. I’ll wink midway through so you know I’m saying hi.
Lillian Mottern is a writer from Los Angeles, now living in New York. Her criticism and fiction have been published in Spectra, The Big One, Waif, Wigleaf, and The Living Room. She is co-editor of Perennial Magazine and has an MFA from Columbia University. @lillianmottern