Adam Fieled (editor, Plymouth Meeting, Pennsylvania): "Loner"

Chopping into the innards of a spectacular spring day,
I cannot help but wonder at how long its taken me to
get to simple home truths about Mary and I. To see,
really and truly, where the walls were and why they were
there. It would never have occurred to me in Montreal,
for instance, to understand that, if Mary did not share
my penchant for hanging out in cafés, meeting the local
Bohemians, it’s because her primordial stance before
the world was not a social one. Behind all the seductive
razmatazz, she was a loner. I’m included, then, in her package
deal, because she’s spotted that I have talent. Once
that’s established, I become an extension of the idea
that Mary will surround herself with tokens and totems
to reinforce her eventually triumphant emergence in the world.

The drug girls, like Saskia and Maya, came and went. Abby
was allowed to stay because, like me, she became another
talented extension of Mary herself. All the levels of personal
interaction between Mary and I wavered between real intimacy
and the impersonality of me being David, the ideal male nude,
who could also sub as a permanent curator for her too, and, most
importantly, a backer for her with more vital energy than she
had. By Montreal, Mary was slightly lost from all the powder
that had gone up her nose. It imperceptibly started to be the case
that she dropped plans to take the East Coast by storm, continued
with me in the hopes, well-founded, that I would never drop her.
She was right: I would not. When we had a photo-strip done at
a photo booth in a random Montreal train station, she was the one
who knew I would make it public. That jade pendant again. Us.

© Adam Fieled 2026