When Its Okay to Burn Your Boyfriend in a Bear Skin

(Spoiler warning)

What’s the best way to get rid of your clueless boyfriend? Burn him alive with the help of a Swedish cult—or at least that’s what Dani does in Ari Aster’s box office hit “Midsommar.” 

While horror as a genre has been leaning away from jump scares and toward psychological thrills for several years, “Midsommar” is the first horror film I’ve seen that has taken up the mantle of trauma and fear that’s specifically feminine. By shooting through reflections in mirrors and incorporating the symbolic significance of runes and bears, Aster places the viewer in the midst of a crumbling relationship. When that relationship is demolished, we’re content to watch it burn. 

 ———

Spatial Disconnects

The audience is introduced to Dani (Florence Pugh) and Christian (Jack Reynor) through a phone call. Dani, on one end of the line, relentlessly calls Christian, worried about an ominous email she had received from her bipolar sister. On the other end, Christian is out with his buddies, leisurely eating pizza, and ignoring Dani. The guys urge Christian to break up with her, characterizing her as nagging. Christian is on the fence, wondering, “What if I regret it later and I can’t get her back?” Still, he himself states that he’s been thinking about the possibility of a breakup for over a year. This spatial and emotional disconnect introduces us to the strained dynamics within their relationship. 

Later that night, Dani finds out that her sister killed herself and her entire family via car exhaust poisoning. Christian can’t break up with Dani in the wake of this tragedy, so their relationship is “saved” for the time being. However, on a trip to Sweden accompanied by three of Christian’s friends, the couple is eventually forced to confront their issues. 

There, the group visits the Hägra commune, a Swedish community whose sinister practices border on cultish.  Dani’s experiences in the commune offer her the opportunity to recognize the shortcomings of her relationship with Christian, when he’s emotionally insensitive following the death of her family. He continues to be inconsiderate throughout their time in the commune. For example, he neglects to warn her about the ättestupa ritual they witness, where an old couple throws themselves to their deaths, and is dismissive when Dani becomes anxious about other foreign couples disappearing mysteriously from the commune. 

 Throughout “Midsommar,” Aster shows the disconnect between Dani and Christian by shooting the smaller frame of a mirror within the larger frame of the shot. At the beginning of the movie, Aster films through mirrors to establish the dynamics of their relationship before they reach Sweden. The first scene that unfolds through a mirror is the confrontation between Dani and Christian after Dani finds out that he’s been hiding his plans for a two-week trip to Sweden with his friends. Aster chooses to shoot this confrontation through a floor length mirror. In this shot, we can see Christian only through the mirror that Dani stands next to. This mirror acts as a frame within the larger frame of the film; Christian is literally separated from Dani through the amplified depth the mirror creates between the two. 

This filming technique exaggerates the physical and emotional distance between Dani and Christian. During this scene, Christian dismisses her concerns, claiming that he “wasn’t keeping it from [her].” When Dani exclaims “you already have a plane ticket!” he responds with a not-so heartfelt “I’m sorry?”, a comment that demonstrates Christian’s insensitivity towards Dani.

With this filming technique, Aster allows the audience to see both Christian’s and Dani’s faces even while they face opposite directions. Because we usually don’t see both characters’ faces at the same time when a conversation is filmed in a traditional shot-reverse-shot pattern, this detail creates a feeling of unease in the relationship, laying the groundwork for what happens in Sweden.

We lose the mirror shot when Dani moves across the room to talk to Christian at close range. The literal distance Dani is covering here can also be interpreted as the distance she has to go to accommodate Christian’s indifference. She goes through considerable effort to apologize to him even though she’s the one who has been wronged. The emotional energy she exerts for him is exhausting to watch. This situation is a realistic expression of Dani’s anxieties about her relationship, a moment of realism before the horrors that take place at the commune. Based on this scene, we know that Dani would rather stay with someone who puts forth little effort to compromise or be vulnerable than face her fear of being alone. 

The next significant shot we see involving Dani and mirrors takes place during the group’s initial arrival in Sweden. As the group nears the Hågra commune, the camera flips upside down to show the viewer a world that is literally topsy turvy.  Our introduction to this reality is another mirror shot where Dani confronts her own reflection once at the commune. As Dani stares into her own eyes, her features begin to warp and enlarge in a grotesque fashion, resembling her sister’s and family’s faces after their deaths at the beginning of the film.

         Within the world of the film, Dani’s warped perception of her reflection can be explained by the mushrooms she took with Christian and his friends when they first arrived in Sweden. However, this shot can also be interpreted as a depiction of Dani’s confused sense of self at this point in the story, because of both her relationship with Christian and her family’s death. Dani’s sister is shown in the background of the mirror, wearing the same exhaust pipe that was strapped to her face when she died, vividly showing that Dani feels haunted by her family’s death and her inability to have stopped it from occurring. Since their death morbidly prevented Christian from breaking up with Dani at the beginning of the film, her sister’s appearance in this shot can also represent Dani’s nagging sense that something is wrong with her relationship. Additionally, because Dani is left alone after her family’s death, this shot could be a reflection of Dani’s fear of isolation that drives her to stay with someone entirely wrong for her. 

 ———

Runes

         In addition to mirrors, Aster also uses runes to characterize Dani and Christian’s relationship. As the film progresses and Dani and Christian’s relationship falls apart, the Hågra people gift Dani her own Swedish garb—mostly eerily pristine white clothes, a sign of their acceptance of her and expulsion of Christian. The scenes in which Dani wears these clothes are ones of empowerment and community. In one scene, for example, Dani is dressed in the bright white, almost knee length dress of the Hågra and dances around the maypole with the other Hågra girls until they drop from exhaustion. The last girl standing is crowned May Queen, the highest honor bestowed at the Hågra’s summer solstice festival. While Dani participates in the May Queen dance, Christian betrays Dani in a bizarre, ritualistic orgy.  

The runes that we see sewn into Dani’s Swedish clothes represent her move away from Christian and towards self-discovery. According to an article published in The Week, the Radio (ᚱ) rune sewn into Dani’s Swedish clothing means “journey” in the Nordic tradition. In the context of Dani and Christian’s relationship, this could be interpreted as a marker of Dani’s journey to the realization that she does not need Christian in her life. A defining moment in this turn happens when Dani wails in despair at Christian’s cheating and the rest of the girls from the commune wail along with her in a pile on the floor to comfort her. This results in a hyper-expressionistic show of female support and the catastrophic impact of infidelity. 

         The other rune featured in Dani’s Hägra clothing is the Dagaz (ᛞ), which means “new beginning.” This rune conveys almost the same meaning as the Radio rune, except this one implies that Dani’s journey will result in a new start, or symbolic rebirth, once she has rid herself of Chrisitan. Aster chooses to focus on these runes, which are sewn into Dani’s shoes, right before she begins her May Queen dance competition with the other girls in the commune. Dani’s rebirth then becomes reliant on a supportive community. 

         On the other hand, the runes on Christian’s clothing are linked to his masculinity. The most prominent rune imprinted on Christian’s Swedish robe is the Tiwaz (ᛏ), which is associated with the Norse god Tyr and with masculine power and energy. Furthermore, Christian only wears Hågra clothing during the orgy he participates in with the Hågra women, a role he is only needed for because of his sex. This emphasis on Christian’s masculine energy makes him a larger symbol for manhood and the most abhorrent qualities of masculine behavior associated with mistreatment of women. The inclusion of this rune on Christian’s Swedish robe also conveys that his masculine energy is not welcome in Dani’s new female-centered family. When Christian is anointed with his robe, he only wears it for a short time before he is stripped naked of it and thrown out of the orgy ceremony chamber after he’s done his part. When he is stripped of the robe, Christian is stripped of his association with the commune and thus Dani’s new sense of place and self. This image presents Christian, and maleness in general, as a commodity. Christian’s masculinity is only welcome when he can serve the commune and procreate with one of its members in an orgy, and once he has served his purpose, he is emasculated in the most humiliating way: stripped naked and thrown out into the open air.

———

Bears

Another key symbolic tool used to represent Christian is the bear. With her new power as the May Queen, Dani chooses to sacrifice Christian by burning him inside of a bear carcass. This image is doubly disturbing: first because Christian is inside a bloody bear carcass which children of the commune are shown gutting earlier in the film, but also because Christian looks almost childlike with his face framed by the furry bear’s as we see him for the last time.

Christian’s fate was foreshadowed at the beginning of the film by a painting in Dani’s bedroom back at home. In this painting, there is a little girl wearing a crown, miniscule in front of a large bear whose nose she is stroking. If this bear represents Christian, its size shows that he is a large presence in Dani’s life, but one that she also loves. His presence is one that she spends too much fruitless energy on, but one that she will eventually overthrow, symbolized by the little girl’s crown and its associations with power. Dani certainly achieves empowerment by the end of the film when she is crowned the May Queen, leading to her literal and symbolic courage to kill Christian, or in a real-world sense, break up with him.

         In the Nordic culture that the Hågra hail from, the bear is considered the most powerful and ferocious animal. Norse men would even wear a bear skin to battle to channel the power of the bear against their enemies. It’s curious that Christian wears a bear skin, the ultimate symbol of Norse manliness, at his most vulnerable moment—when he is sedated, awaiting his death. Because of this symbolism, Christian’s brutal, shameful death is associated with both the shortcomings of masculinity and the triumph of Dani’s femininity. 

         Dani wears a ball gown of flowers as she watches Christian burn. Flowers are almost universally associated with femininity—Dani becomes a symbol of extreme femininity while Christian embodies the extreme masculinity. If you read the movie as symbolic of the arc of a relationship, Dani’s act of murdering Christian is synonymous with her decision to break up with him following a cheating incident represented by the orgy. Her actions are thus a “win” in this story, but whether this win is positive or negative is up to the viewer. Dani smiles to herself as the film closes, yet the Hågra around her scream in pain, perhaps representing the dual joy and suffering that comes with cutting toxic people from one’s life. Regardless, Dani’s individual triumph over Christian and the negativity he brought to her life have wider reaching effects because of these symbols. Her victory becomes a symbolic triumph for women with emotionally abusive boyfriends. In Aster’s world, they can watch them burn in hell.  

Mediocre Issue | November 2019

Gallery Scissors

Stick Boy.

On a Monday afternoon with sweltering heat pushing through the blue Subaru’s thick glass windows, Simon watches Carver tug at his polka-dotted tie at every stop sign.

“Should I hold the wheel or something so you can take it off?” Simon asks finally. “What are you talking about, take it off? I’m not gonna take it off, Simon.”

“Well, I don’t know. It looks like it sucks to wear.” He shrugs within a heap of denim designed to be overalls on someone larger.

“It’s my dad’s. From France. It does not suck to wear. You just don’t know anything about what it’s like to dress well.” Carver exhales sharply out of his nose. “It’s cause you’re still a child, bro.”

“You are too.” Simon says it how a child with hurt feelings would say it. Dejected and defensive. He sits up a little straighter to combat the persistence of this image that he has suddenly become hyper-conscious of. Carver had managed to make child sound like a negative thing. Simon hadn’t thought of it like that before.

“Nah.” He sniffs and tugs at his tie again. “I’m gonna be driving your ass around ‘til you’re senile, huh?”

“Hopefully. I never wanna sit behind a steering wheel. I wouldn’t trust myself. Not with a big machine like this.”

“Doesn’t take a lot of skill,” Carver sighs. “I could do it with my eyes closed, even.”

“I hope you don’t,” Simon says quietly.

They drive for a bit in silence, watching the green of trees and corn husks flash by like streaks of watercolor against a bright blue acrylic.

“Gallery Scissors,” Simon whispers to himself. A sudden movement of the mouth, a blip in the brain. The possible birth of the best band in existence. Beatles status type of shit.

“Carver!” Simon bellows, causing Carver to jump and swerve the car a bit to the left. “Gallery Scissors! Holy shit.”  

“Simon, what the fuck bro?” He straightens out the car and tugs on his tie again.

“Gallery Scissors!! Do I have to say it again?”

“What the shit is that?”

“The sickest band name you’ve ever heard! Is it not?” Simon’s eyes are wide now, bulging from the skin pulled taut across his face.

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

“I just thought of it! We gotta use it. It’s too good to not use.”

“How the hell do you mean for us to use it?”

“What do you mean? It’s simple. We make a band. We name it Gallery Scissors.”

“Dude. Think for one second. Do you play an instrument?”

“No. But I’m sure I could learn kazoo. Give me like a few weeks and I’ll be dirty at it.”

“Yo, wait. What? You feel like you need to learn—hold on, that’s a whole other issue. It’ll derail us.” Caver makes a right turn and then says, “Simon, please explain your brain processes.”

“With every great name comes a great band. Everyone knows that.”

“It’s like one crackhead comment after another.”

“And you have good work ethic! You could figure out how to play guitar for sure. I know you could.” Simon is leaning forward, drumming an inconsistent beat on the dashboard with his pointer fingers. “And then we can find a drummer and a singer and maybe a—”

“Simon. I don’t want to be in your band, man.”

“What? Why the hell not?”

“I refuse to be a member of a band led by a rhythm-less, less-than-average kazooist.”

“I told you that in less than a month, I’ll be shredding! I’ll be the best kazooist the world has ever seen.”

Carver pulls into a narrow spot in the school parking lot and turns off the engine.

“Simon,” he says slowly. “I won’t be in your band. You’ve gotta find someone else to do it.”

He steps out of the car and Simon follows closely behind him toward the concrete monstrosities that make up Valston High School. Simon takes notice of Carver’s gait, the way his feet turn in slightly and his shoulders hunch forward just a bit. There’s no doubt that he’d make for a great album cover.

“Okay. But would you just think about it a little bit at least? You could be passing up on the greatest experience of your entire lifetime. I’ve got a good feeling about this one. I mean it too.”

“You have good feelings about stupid things often, Simon.”

“Okay! But this one! I even said I mean it this time!” Simon runs up next to Carver, stretching his legs out far in order to keep his pace.

“Bro, chill. Give it a week and you’ll be bored of all of this. I’m gonna be late to class. See you after school.”

Carver rushes off to the gymnasium and Simon smiles to himself. He has never felt so sure of an idea until this exact moment.

The bell rings and he feels a finger tap his shoulder. Behind him stands Ellie Taylor, dressed in fire. Red, really, but he feels that if he said the fire comment out loud, she’d like that type of thing.

“You look like you’re wearing fire,” he breathes.

She chuckles and shakes her head. “Simon,” she says. “You heard the bell, right? You’re late to class, you know.”

“So are you.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t even planning to go. You look like you were at least planning to go.”

“Well, maybe I wasn’t.” He sees this as the perfect response. The sort of response that has the ability to paint someone as interesting and maybe even a little dangerous. But Ellie doesn’t even seem to hear. She’s digging deep into her bag, her tongue sticking out of her mouth as she concentrates.

“Ah!” she says suddenly, pulling a twig from the bottom. “This! I found this stick on the sidewalk earlier this morning. It reminded me of you!”

She holds the stick only a few inches in front of Simon’s face. He closes one eye and squints at it. It’s slightly crooked with two smaller twigs sticking out on either side, like tiny, weak arms. Simon looks down at his own body and then back at the stick. Maybe they do look alike.

“Uncanny, right?” she asks, grinning.

“I guess so.”

“I can make it into a keychain for you. I have my jewelry class at three today. If you lose your keys, everyone will know they belong to you.” She puts the stick back into her bag, implying that no matter what Simon decides, the keychain will still be made.  

“Okay. Thanks, El.”

“Oh! And I found this the other day at an antique store.” She pulls out a bright orange felt beret and balances it on her head. “What do you think? I bought it but I can’t tell if it’s stupid or not. I mean, it’s a beret, so I know it’s kind of objectively stupid, but …  like … it’s kind of cute stupid, right?” She grins and cocks her head to the right. The beret slips off kilter.

“Right. Cute stupid for sure.”

“Good,” she says, and then turns to walk away without any warning.

“Ellie!” he shouts after her. Her body jolts in surprise and he realizes that she was still much too close for him to raise his voice. 

“What?” she turns on her heels to face him.

“You have a band?” she says.

“Well—not yet. I’m sort of compiling one. Carver’s in it.” Simon winces slightly at his own lie.

“Yeah? What does he play?”

“Guitar. Well—he’s learning guitar. He’ll be really great though. He has good work ethic.”

“And what do you play?” she asks, one blonde eyebrow raised slightly higher than the other.

“I’m an aspiring kazoo-ist.”

“Ah. So nobody in this band actually plays an instrument yet.”

“Uh … yeah. I mean, that’s true but …”

“I’m in. You could use a real musician.” When she says the word musician, it’s like her mouth wants to linger on it. Simon pauses just in case she wants to say it again. She doesn’t.

“It’s called Gallery Scissors,” Simon says. “Pretty dope, right?”

“Kinda goofy. But the whole prospect is pretty goofy.” She pulls the beret off of her head and stuffs it into her bag.

“I hate this thing. It was a bad purchase,” she says, looking down at the blinding orange felt. “See you, Simon,” she says, this time before walking away.

“I’ll text you about our first rehearsal!” Simon calls after her, though she’s too far away to hear now.  

 ———

At 3 AM, Simon wakes in a cold sweat upon realizing within a dream that every successful band has four members.

Carver’s phone buzzes him out of a deep sleep.

“Simon, what the fuck?” Carver mumbles into the phone.

“Shit, dude!! I got Ellie today but we need one more!”

Carver pulls the phone from his ear to avoid going deaf. “I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about, bro. Why the shit are you calling me at 2:30 in the morning?”

“Gallery. Scissors. Bro. Every successful band has four members! Just think about it! The Beatles. The Stones. Led Zeppelin. Probably more. I just... can’t really remember right now.” There’s a pause before Carver answers. He can feel Simon’s deep anticipation through the phone. 

“Simon. I’m literally gonna fist fight you at school tomorrow.”

“Be serious, Carver.”

“No, actually what the fuck? Why would you wake me up to tell me that? I’M NOT IN YOUR BAND, SIMON. Holy shit.”

Carver hears Simon exhale loudly. “Well, damn,” he says.

“Good luck with it,” Carver says. The line clicks.

Simon stands up from his bed and walks to his desk. He drums his fingers on its wood surface.

Carver’s dad, Mr. Carver, teaches at VHS and has a corkboard outside of his classroom. Seeing that the two of them are good friends, Simon figures that Mr. Carver wouldn’t mind if he put a poster up. Mr. Carver speaks four languages, knows everything about everything, is one of the most active philanthropists in Valston, adopted Carver as a single father and is one of the smoothest lady killers Simon has ever encountered. Simon is fairly certain that he likes Mr. Carver more than Carver.

Simon pulls out a red piece of construction paper and a sharpie. He writes, “GALLERY SCISSORS AUDITIONS!!” out in big capitalized, block letters. At the bottom of the paper he writes his phone number.

The red is bold but Simon scowls at the sign itself, seeing it as too plain to be associated with a band that is as soon-to-be influential as Gallery Scissors. Simon adds a peace sign in one of the corners and a doodle of a skull in another. He sticks it into his bag and flops around, sleepless in his bed, for the rest of the night. 

 ———

Magenta Socks.

Against cork the red pops even more, Simon thinks. He stands back to admire the poster beside the other, duller ones Mr. Carver already has hanging up. One for astronomy club, another filled with community service opportunities and a third with sign-ups for the end of the year talent show.

“Wow. That’s obnoxious.” Simon turns to see Mr. Carver, arms crossed.

“Okay if I hang this sign up?” Simon asks, pointing at it.

“You already did.”

“Okay cool.”

“What does it mean?” Mr. Carver asks, squinting at the poster’s blinding red.

“It’s for my band. Carver—uh Charles is in it.”

Mr. Carver furrows his brows, as if he’s contemplating what the word “band” could mean in this context. “So the two of you … you’re self-proclaimed musicians now?”

“Yes sir.”

Mr. Carver rubs a hand across his face. “I learn new things every day, huh?” he exhales. “You should be more descriptive in your poster, Simon. Nobody will know what ‘Gallery Scissors’ means.”

“Oh. I thought it was clear. Do you have a pen?” Simon asks.

Mr. Carver pulls one from his pocket and hands it over begrudgingly. In parenthesis beside the word Scissors, Simon writes, (this is a band BTW).

“And do you think I should put a trademarked symbol next to Gallery Scissors? Just so no one takes the name?” Simon’s hand hovers over the poster.

Mr. Carver chuckles and shrugs. “You know, that’s really up to you and Charles, kid. If you wanna take the precaution, I say go for it. It never hurt to be assertive. Especially with something as precious as a band name.”

“Especially with this band name!” Simon scratches a TM next to the last S in Scissors and then stands back to admire his work.

“Right.” Mr. Carver scratches his head and nods slowly. “Get to class, kid.”

“Thanks, Mr. C,” Simon says. “Oh, are you making dinner tonight?”

“Scallops. You’re welcome to join us.”

“I just might,” Simon says, grinning.

Oswald Jackson sits next to Simon in history class. He’s skinny, allergic to a lot of things, and incredibly quiet, but Simon notices him drumming softly on his desk with his pencil. It seems like he’s got fairly good timing, not that Simon knows much about timing. He is nonetheless left with a good feeling about Oswald and his potential to be the best drummer the world has ever seen.

Simon has never said a word to Oswald. Today is the day. He leans in close to Oswald’s ear and whispers, “You wanna be in a band?”

Oswald jolts in his chair, causing it to squeak violently. Everyone in the class turns to look at him. His face goes a bright cherry red and he focuses his eyes on the floor until everyone looks away.

Simon tries again, a little less abrupt this time. “Sorry about that. Wanna be in my band?” he says, a bit slower.

“… What band?” Oswald whispers back.

“It’s called Gallery Scissors. We need a fourth member. A drummer. You drum?” Simon motions to Oswald’s pencil, still clenched tightly in his right hand.

Oswald squints down at it and then looks back up at Simon. “I’ve never touched an actual drum set before,” he says.

“But you have rhythm. I think you could be a sick drummer.”

“That seems like a pretty unreasonable assumption.”

“Wanna try at least? We got some cool people in Gallery Scissors. That’s the name of my band, by the way. Gallery Scissors. Cool, right?”

“I … I mean … I don’t know how much time I have to … like sit there and try to learn the drums. Maybe you should find someone who already plays?”

“Hey, come on. It’ll be great. You’ll be great.”

Oswald shrugs and says begrudgingly, “Okay.”

At 3:45 PM, Simon meets Carver in front of his Subaru. Carver notices Simon’s posture and cocky grin and immediately readies himself for a conversation he has no desire to be involved in.

He loosens his tie and says, “What is it, Simon?”

“Got Oswald Jackson today. You know, the kid who almost died cause of Lucy’s peanut butter sandwich in fourth grade? Well, he’s the drummer for Gallery Scissors now. And it’s gonna be sick.”

“Simon, I can promise you right now that Oswald Jackson has never even touched a drumstick.”

“And you’d be correct. But it doesn’t matter because soon he will touch a drumstick. And it will be glorious, Carver.”

Carver exhales sharply through his teeth and unlocks his car. On the drive home, he plays Pink Floyd loudly, in hopes that Simon won’t talk over the music. Of course, he does.

“It’ll be amazing. You don’t wanna have regrets about this for the rest of your life, do you?” he says, his face becoming red with excitement.

Carver groans and turns the volume up.

“Seriously!” Simon shouts over Another Brick in the Wall. “Seriously, man! It’ll be legendary!”

“Talk about anything else, Simon!” Carver screams back. Simon seems to get the message and sits silently in the passenger seat until they pull into Carver’s driveway behind Mr. Carver’s red Honda Pilot.

“I’m staying for dinner,” Simon says softly. “Your dad’s making scallops.”

At the table, Simon pokes at the scallops with his fork. They’ve turned out to be much more intimidating than he had expected.

“Lemon and garlic, Simon,” Mr. Carver says. “And the texture is an interesting one, but I think you’ll be able to get past it.”

Simon pops one into his mouth and grins to himself. Mr. Carver grins back.

“There you go,” he says. “So, tell me about this band you two are in.”

Carver chokes on a scallop and shakes his head violently. “No,” he says, his mouth full of food. “It’s not a thing. We do not have a band.”

“Yeah! We got two more members today. Oswald Jackson and Ellie Taylor.”

“Oswald’s a good kid,” Mr. Carver says, nodding and pushing his thick-framed glasses farther up his nose. “What does he play?”

“He will play drums. Soon.”

Carver buries his face in his hands and lets out a muffled groan.

“I was in a band in high school,” Mr. Carver says, ignoring his son’s noises of distress.

“Oh yeah?” Simon says, eyes widening. “What was it called?”

“Graves of Solace. I played keys. We had a lot of gigs in high school. It was a great time, too. We weren’t even very good but it was a great feeling. You get really close with your band mates, meet tons of cute girls … awesome experience.”

Carver lifts his head from his hands. “For real?” he asks.

“Absolutely. Ladies love musicians.” Mr. Carver cuts into a scallop.

“Hell yeah they do!” Simon says.

“I … I’ll do it,” Carver says softly.

“What?” Simon looks up at him and raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll be in Gallery Scissors. I’ll learn guitar.” Carver keeps his eyes on the table. For a moment, nobody speaks.

Mr. Carver picks up his wine glass and raises it toward the ceiling. “To Gallery Scissors. May they be successful in their efforts in becoming the best band this world has seen.”

“To Gallery Scissors,” Simon and Carver say in unison, mirroring Mr. Carver with their water cups held up toward the ceiling. 

 Mediocre Issue | November 2019