Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
Please believe me
When I say
Delicate Insecticide
2
For Turquoise
3
He was Earth, and we were the fruit of that Earth.
Though he had eaten us, he would never, ever, digest us.
-Harlan Ellison
4
The attacks on New York changed everything.
-George W. Bush
5
6
ONE
8
Underneath the art print there was a small theater
poster for Devil’s Angels. A group of rough looking men,
in brown and white ink. With a beautiful, rough looking
woman. Starring Vivian Sheraton and S. Wall Jackson. His
second picture. A biker leader. Christian stared at it,
wishing for kinship.
9
“There are mortars every night.”
“Its scary.”
10
He checked his surroundings once fully geared.
The bedroom looked to belong to a young adult of sorts.
One with ambiguous and eccentric taste in music and
art. Miles Davis shared shelf space with the Fugs. Lots of
Offendalism. Crosses in urine and such. Otherwise, spick
and span, lower middle class tediousness. Here he was.
Punk metal militainment adventurism. A bull in a
Tupperware shop.
11
Monica, there were teams editing footage. For whatever
value they could find. Most of it would end up on the
web, training videos and such. The pornography would
be sold to appropriate vendors. Cheaper now that van
Nuys was occupied.
12
“They tore up this one woman’s house that
wouldn’t give them up. Tore apart the walls and knocked
out all the windows. She had to stay with her children in
Utah. What do you think of that?”
13
She held something in her right arm. It took him a while
to determine it was her left arm. He righted the
motorcycle and pulled away. Behind him a second RPG
whistled, cutting short the two story walk-up in the
Brooklyn green zone.
14
chime sounded in his earpiece that his camera had
confirmed a kill.
15
TWO
16
Easter blew in.” Mullanix said. “Both us and you guys lost
a lot more men to that than anything else.”
Aren’t they?”
“An editor.”
“My favorite?”
0 “How high.”
21
THREE
22
She sat on the very edge of the softball field,
observing the light. It had to be friendly; no one else
would be bold enough.
23
out that Administration meant Disbursing and Disbursing
meant giving grunts their money. All of whom were on
the Island. In the DMZ. There was no rear echelon in New
York. Everywhere was Ground Zero.
24
classics? Lost to time. A red cover, a boy and a girl.
Scavenged. Alone.
Two. She was Air Force. The Air Force got all the best
women. The ones who weren’t mere dykes or whores.
The ones that could read and write well.
25
0 There was a question of becoming. What would he
have to become for her? The romantic comedy version of
himself? Something pastiche and likable? Inoffensive?
Often he thought there was no real self. Only a pool of
water, filling whatever container he was placed into.
26
“No.” Her lip quavered briefly. She took a moment
to bury her head in her hands, then quickly brought them
back, in a gesture which suggested she merely wished to
fix the loose strawberry blonde strands that had
detached their way from her ponytail. Christian saw the
wet streaks of tears, however. The DMZ got to her, he
thought. This must be her first time in. Her first real
event. You have to stay with it. Let it wash through you.
You cant let it overwhelm your senses.
27
could get it back into shape. Curry was smart with cars.
Beyond that, he was a fixer. In more ways than one.
“A little.” He answered.
“It happens.”
“Seriously.”
29
The name stuck at him. Viva. Like Paula? Another
Latina? She was Black. Cuban or Rican? The ugly image
swelled back to life. Mullanix lied when it suited his
needs. Was he lying to him now, about not shooting the
rockets? Was that what he meant with the song of
songs? Wasn’t it I am dark, yet comely?
30
The L-bomb went off silently and suddenly in his
head. It kept resonating as he felt her pull tight against
his back, gripping him as hard as she could. He tried to
rob it off its power, but there was no use. Ove, it
screamed. Ove, Ove, Ove, Ove.
31
Officer Jennings and five fellow patrolmen came to
the center of town when the noticed an unusual
gathering. It was a crowd of mostly men, ranging in age
fron seventeen to early fifties. The men were dressed in
a variety of uniforms, and some of which appeared to be
wearing civilian attire. Many of them were wearing body
armor, and most of them were armed.
32
There was enough left to this end of Brooklyn to
suggest that once, it had been a neighborhood. Until you
took in the details. The houses with missing roofs. The
kids running around barefoot. The ones that had feet, Or
hands. Christian took all this in as he roared down the
streets. The familiar details of the DMZ.
33
pieces were being hung from the bridge trestle, and the
people were screaming and pointing to the other side.
34
distances. A blue streak of light lined past, cracking like
an especially loud pair of fingers. They were shooting.
35
water. The motorcycle proclaimed its fury. Wind
whipping on every side. Gloria said, “Oh god.”
36
“Not yet.” He answered. ‘We still have to make it
to the Fob, and see if they’ll shoot us.”
37
FOUR
38
Drill Sergeant S. Wall Jackson tucked over the brim
of his “Smokey the Bear” hat and looked around for his
pouch of chewing tobacco. It sat on the edge of the
command center conference table. He inserted a large
wad into the his cheek and he waited for the two dykes
to show up.
39
and one of the recruits he had buggered had snitched on
him. Having no mgloriageable skills, he eventually
ending up driving a taxi in Fayetteville, North Carolina.
This prospect worked well until he was recognized by one
of his victims, who shyly propositioned him for another
round of glorial amusement.
40
The passenger, one Larry Duplo, a savant director,
was enormously pleased. After such films as
“Childhood’s End” and “the Long Walk” he was ready to
pursue a more serious, factual work, and offered Jackson
a leading role in “Half Tin Overcoat”.
41
He received a promotion to Sergeant First Class, the rank
he had worn in the picture. In boot camps across the
world, Drill Instructors showed his film to recruits, and
talked about the Good Old Days when things were hard
and the world spun in the right direction and everything
made sense because Old men were fucking Young men
that looked up to them in the ass.
42
shirt and athletic shorts, and a pair of running shoes.
Several yellow bands hung from its left arm. There was
an embroidered name above its left breast but there had
been a sort of accident to render the writing
indecipherable. Number Two threw a thick folder on the
conference table which landed with a smack. In bold
black letters YOYODYNE LOSS REPORTS was etched
across.
44
“We need the trucks.” She said. “To get the
condoms, so you can fuck. If we don’t have the trucks,
you can’t screw these nasty whores-“
47
left it. She stared, and tried to unravel her thoughts on
her son.
48
Sometimes she could not dispute the voice. The
feeling came to her, like when she was with that moron
on the bike. He was cocky and arrogant, two traits she
hated in a man. She would hate them in anyone, but
especially in a man. He had a big forehead and a sharp
nose. He had dark black hair and she hated that. He had
gel in the dark black hair and she hated that more.
Obviously he was not used to doing any work to make a
woman happy. Why should he? The motivation and
morale crew would provide him with all the whores he
could eat. A fresh hole to stick his dick in. That was all
they needed, That was all David had required. That, and
a wad of padding for his ego.
49
delicately walked across the room to fetch it. There was
broken glass in the carpet. For some reason she was in
stocking feet, but could not remember having removed
her boots. She tore upon the brown paper to reveal a
black notebook There was a plate inside the cover which
read
50
Originally produced during the Black Sabbath in
the basement of an English Meat Pie shops, who received
assistance in their trade from certain vengeful barbers,
by the end of the twentieth century the Mole’s Skin
notebook was no longer available. In nineteen eighty-six,
the last manufacturer of Mole’s Skin, a blood diamond
smuggling ring in south africa, closed forever.
“Molehaut ist ein Gräuel” Were supposedly the
fuhruers last words on the christianer. Or, rather, the
thought waves received from his preserved brain. The
German writer had ordered a hundred of them before
leaving this life, he had bought up all the Mole’s Skin he
could find, but they were not enough to preserve his life.
51
(Mole’s Skin contains fifty percent animal products.
Like the lampshades)
..
53
it some more. There was only one more item, near the
end:
First Platoon
A series of novels
By M.T.S.
54
from within the DMZ. The hair venders set up shop
everyday with the Blu-ray discs and the I heart NY shirts.
55
“Marks.” The thing said.
‘Supplier of what?”
“Substance D.”
“Thats right.”
56
and she tilted her head back, dry swallowing the
instrument, which tasted distinctly of semen.
57
scared and punched her in the stomach. Then he runs
away.
58
Uruk is this huge city with huge black walls. And
the city is built in circles. Each circle has a higher wall
than the last one, with the fortress in the center being
the tallest. It’s a presence, really. Like nothing anyone
has ever seen before. That huge black city in the middle
of an endless beach without an ocean.
So, Arturus takes the city. Kills its ruler, takes his
bride Salome. Fucks her. In the night she takes a knife
and hacks away. Cuts his throat, and cuts off his left
hand. Tells everyone that she killed him. The people riot.
Arturus’s men kill and die, but they are stuck in the city.
Their leader is gone. They don’t know the way home.
And Arturus lives in the basement of the palace, wrapped
in an old blanket, pissing on himself.”
59
“What do you have for me?”
60
61
62
FIVE
63
“Well, I guess you don’t care about whores
anymore.”
65
“I’m not talking about the show. Im talking about
that Eivel Knievel stunt you pulled on the bridge.”
“Who did?”
“Like what?”
“What?”
“Your polynesian?”
68
They arrived early at the enlisted club. It had once
been an actual nightclub called the Tango. When the
base had been built all the rest of the buildings had been
razed to the ground, to be replaced with trailer houses
with sandbag and cinderblock roofs. Only Club Tango
remained undisturbed. Initially there was a question as
to what it would be put to use as, until the clubs full
supply of liquor and intoxicants was discovered. Then the
question was removed. Motivation and Morale snapped it
up quickly, stocking the bathroom condom dispensers
and adding bowls of Substance D brand pharmaceutical
party aids.
“Where’s that?”
“Sounds terrible.”
“I know.”
70
“I’m not sure. They offered me a commission.”
“Like what?”
71
They danced in the early twenty first century style of
bump and grind. He lacked rhythm, and merely swayed
back and forth. Other couples joined in. As the night
wore on the alcohol swam and the room grew hot and
crowded. A foam machine projected millions of soap
bubbles and they continued to dance, sometimes with
each other. At one point she kissed him and they started
making out, standing there on the floor, pressed against
the wall, and finally on the bar stools. At that moment in
time, suspended between imperfections, he bent her
head back and told her. The L-bomb dropped, and things
moved quickly, hazily, in between drunken sheets of
sweat and love juice, in rutting movements slow then
fast. As if the fate of the world could be determined by
their bodies. The truth of the glory for which they were
born. When he reached her door, a familiar sight greeted
him. Gloria stood there, her arms crossed, with that
same steely look of contempt on her face that had
greeted him the first time he came to her apartment. In
fact, she had on the same silky pajama pants with the
little hearts on it and a tank top that exposed a hint of
midriff. It was like déjà vu and as such, Christian didn't
see the harm in recreating the scene a little more.
Gloria looked up into his smoky gray eyes and knew that
she was in trouble. Before she could react, his lips were
upon hers and his tongue was pleading its case for
entrance. He backed her into the apartment, closing the
door with his foot, before whirling them around,
effectively trapping Gloria between himself and the door.
The basket in his hand dropped to the floor as his hands
made the familiar journey, under that flimsy tank top
that drove him crazy, to cup her luscious breasts and
tease her chocolate brown nipples.
Gloria gasped as his digits began to roll her nipples,
pulling and teasing, a moan escaping to be swallowed by
72
Christian's mouth. His tongue was in her mouth,
exploring every nook and cranny before inviting her own
tongue to do the same. Their lips met again and again
and Gloria couldn't even find the willpower to break away
and bitch at Christian for interrupting her studies. She
would much rather be kissed senseless than study
anyway and besides, she wouldn't let it go too far. She
could hear the little voice inside her head laugh at that
thought, but she ignored it.
Christian's mouth moved lower, nipping her neck and her
shoulder, before it latched onto a nipple. His hands
worked her tank top off and threw it over his head.
"Christian..." Gloria's breathless plea was answered with
a soft bite on the side of her breast.
Christian worked her entire tit over before moving on, his
tongue playing in the valley between her breasts and
then encircling her other nipple. Tonight, there would be
no interruptions and Christian was glad for that. His
hands almost met around her waist as he picked her up
and settled her against the door. Gloria wrapped her legs
around Christian's muscular body, locking her feet
behind him.
"Mmm, Gloria, the things you do to me. You make me
lose my mind when I'm around you," Christian murmured
into her hair.
Gloria's reply was engulfed by the squeal that she let out
as Christian's jean encased cock rocked against her clit.
Her hands, shoved between their bodies, frantically
undid the button on his pants and worked down the
zipper, while his tried to pull her pajama pants down as
far as he could mgloriage with her legs positioned as
they were. Christian's frustration built quickly and he
ripped Gloria's pants and her panties along the sides,
exposing her to his eager ministrations. Her fingers
73
wrapped around his cock while his stroked the outside of
her wetness.
Gloria panted, hoping she wouldn't hyperventilate as he
plunged two of his fingers inside of her. He twisted his
fingers, playing her like a well-tuned instrument,
wringing loud cries of ecstasy from her. Copious amounts
of her juices coated his fingers and made him wish that
he could taste her there, with his mouth or his cock. The
longer her slim digits danced along his dick, the more
desperate he became until he couldn't stand it.
"Gloria, please."
Gloria was pulled out of her frenzy by the sound of his
pleading. Her eyes shot up to catch his gaze, watching as
the blue that signaled his arousal started to overtake the
gray of his eyes. Oh. Shit.
"Please...God, please, baby. Shit. I need..."
He didn't even need to say the words. She knew what he
was asking. She continued to stare into his eyes,
struggling with the decision momentarily. His fingers had
stopped their probing and were now gripping her thighs,
subtly adjusting her body for penetration. She could feel
his desperation battling with his control and she knew it
was a losing battle. Part of her wanted to hold out and
make him wait longer, to not give it up to him so quickly
in their relationship. The other 90% of her was screaming
to let him in. Her body wanted him and her heart needed
him.
Christian groaned as he felt Gloria rubbing his hard-on
through the wetness of her pussy, back and forth,
teasing him. "Gloria, please."
She gave him a cheeky smile before answering, "Please?
What would you like me to do?"
"Stop teasing me."
"Oh, is that what you want?" Gloria giggled as she moved
his cock away from her naughty bits and repositioned it
74
back between their bodies.
Christian thrust up against her, his dick sliding against
her clit and causing a delicious heat to rise up through
her body. He spoke over Gloria's moans. "Why you
little...I want my cock buried in that sweet snatch. I want
to watch you dance on my cock while you scream for
me."
Gloria was panting again, his movements hadn't slowed
and she was on fire. "Do it...I want it. I want that too."
Christian hiked Gloria's body up and lined his dick up
with her pussy. "You sure, Gloria?"
Stripping off his jeans and pulling off his shirt before
joining her, Christian climbed onto the bed and cuddled
his Gloria against his chest. He laid with her like that for
long minutes before speaking, taking time to soak in the
feel of her pressed against him, her nipples grazing
against the hard planes of his chest.
"Mmm. You are positively irresistible, Gloria," Christian
spoke into her neck.
"Well, I could say the same thing about you. I wasn't
76
planning on letting you ravish me like that for at least
another week. But, what can I say, you're very
persuasive."
"I'm sorry, Gloria. I didn't mean to come here and take
you like that. I just wanted to feed you and help you
relax."
Gloria laughed. "Well, I think this is the most relaxed I've
been all day. So I guess you've achieved your goal in
that respect."
Christian chuckled. "So, was I amazing or what?"
Gloria smirked. Of course he was going back to being
cocky, but he deserved his props because he had put it
down right. "I'll admit that you were pretty amazing.
Keep that up and you might get lucky every time I see
you."
Christian grinned and rolled over on top of his Gloria.
"I'm feeling pretty lucky right now. How about it?"
Gloria stared up at him incredulously. "Really? Now?"
Christian ground his hard-on against her still exposed
pussy. "Really. I told you before, angel, you make me
crazy. Every time I think of you and your sexy little body,
I get hard. I think the brothers thought I was some sort of
sex fiend last weekend, as much as I jerked it."
"Maybe I am, but you love it. So, how about it?"
"You won't fail, you're way too smart for that, but I
understand. Can I still stay for awhile or are my five
minutes up?"
77
Gloria cast a glance at the clock on her dresser. "Your
five minutes were up like 40 minutes ago. I'm surprised
your legs held up as long as they did."
Gloria rolled her eyes. "I could, but I'm not going to right
now. I'm going to get back to studying as soon as you
stop trying to persuade me to have sex and get off of
me."
"I know. I'm sorry. I'll replace that pair of pajama pants
and the panties too," Christian stated sheepishly as he
hid his satisfied grin behind his hair. He liked ripping
Gloria's clothes from her body and would probably
indulge in it again soon.
79
"Hey, angel, are you hungry or do you want to wait for
your snack?" Christian called from the bedroom as he
stretched out his legs.
After a few more hours, when night had fallen and Gloria
was starting to get wound up about her final, Christian
pried the pencil from her hand and pulled her from the
table. Before she could fuss at him, he kissed her into
submission and laid her down on the same blanket he
had used for their picnic. He pulled out the massage oils
and rubbed Gloria down until she was nothing but a
80
puddle of flesh. And while she was spread out,
luxuriating in the feel of his fingers stroking and
kneading her tense muscles, he read to her from her
study guide, occasionally asking comprehension
questions that Gloria easily answered.
81
"Christian, stop mumbling to yourself and go to sleep.
This isn't family share time. Save it 'til tomorrow," Gloria
grumbled.
****
82
She walked across campus and settled on hanging out at
an outside table by the student union until it was time to
meet Maia. Because she had been so confident, Gloria
had finished well before she thought she would and now
had time to kill. She decided to work on her paper, so
she could finish it quickly. Christian was coming back up
later that night and she wanted to be able to focus on
him. Now that they had gotten their first time out of the
way, Gloria was looking forward to fucking Christian into
submission. She shook her head at herself. One day
she's claiming that she was waiting to have sex, the next
she's being drilled against a door. Oh, how she was
mistaken.
Jeremy took the seat across from her, sweeping his long
red locks back so he could get a better look at Gloria. He
had heard the rumor that Christian Rosenbloom was so
far gone on Gloria that he was tripping over himself and
that they were now an item, but he wanted to hear it
straight from the source. If he gave up and the rumor
proved to be wrong, he would be majorly pissed. But,
then again, if the rumor was true and Gloria was taken
by Christian on the very weekend that he wanted to lay
his claim to her wonderfully curvy body, it would be a
damn shame.
His eyes took in the way her hair fell over one eye before
traveling down past her shoulders and the way her
breasts seemed to suck him in before he caught himself
and raised his eyes back up to hers. He could feel his
entire face flush as he realized that she had caught him
staring as well.
"So are you two dating or was that just some wild
rumor?" Jeremy beat her to the punch.
"It was a KISS. He put his lips on you and he's lucky I
didn't run over and rip them off. I know a guy on the
prowl when I see one." Christian accented his words with
a jab in the direction that Jeremy walked off in.
"Gloria, I'm really sorry that I acted like a total jerk when
I came over here. It's hard, you know. I mean, I spent so
much time trying to get you to be mine and the thought
of some guy trying to take you from me makes me see
red. It kills me to think about not being with you."
"Negative."
91
"Negative? What?"
"No, I'm not serious. And, it's really funny to me. You look
like a fish with your mouth opening and closing like that,"
Gloria responded in between laughs.
"Christian..."
She didn't get any more out before she was hoisted over
Christian's broad shoulder and carried the rest of the
way up to her apartment. He took the keys from her back
pocket and opened the door. He let her close it, since
most of her was behind him, before he walked over to
93
her couch.
Gloria felt his cock rubbing against the cleft of her ass
and luxuriated in the way his body covered hers before
his words sunk in. Oh. Shit. And those were the last two
words that made sense to Gloria for the rest of the day
and most of the night, as Christian slid his penis deep
inside of her and showed her just who he was and how
efficient he was at staking his claim. Over and over
again.
94
SIX
95
through the scope. War was a game of patience, and the
one who could hold out the longest, would win.
96
just where to put all your faith,
98
Shahi. Sarah at school with her half shirts and no bra.
With those great tits.
100
to nothing, came free. Then he sank again, and could
feel nothing but earth.
101
SEVEN
102
The hospital was made of cheap yellow flowers from Wal-
Mart that told him GG NORA seyz GET YOURSELF
BETTER!! The first thought in his head was annoyance at
how his grandmother now called herself GG just because
his sister had gotten herself knocked up in college. His
second thought was that he was unbearably thirsty.
103
It’s the same color as her rug, He thought, and
immediatedly didn’t want to. He coughed and let out a
retch of phlegm. The water went back up for a return
trip. The mute button went off and on, giving him
snippets and flashes of conversation(s) being held on his
behalf,
“Ah-huugh ughuagh”
104
little hand crept up to the invalids face and became
aware of the nose tube.
“Really?” He asked.
105
were listening to the whole thing. That had been three
years ago.
“Thats all.”
106
knocked up by some black guy on his way in or out of
jail. And fuck the kid.”
“Do what?”
107
The nurse in the pink scrubs came back into the
room to inform Vi that visiting hours were over and that
there was no smoking in the hospital. Vi put the smoke
back in her purse, a big heavy tan leather purse, with a
big gold clasp. A mom purse.
108
weight of all that had come before were blocking them.
Aaron went to church with Aunt Jeant, and Vi sat in his
old room on Sundays, drinking Vodka and crying out the
names of the men who had been at the other end of her
train station, passing by while she stood still.
109
EIGHT
_______________
. _______________
.________________.
110
Let the line in between represent the now, the
present, the life being lived. Let it also stand for the
bottom of a square.
.☐.
“It was the first time he had been asked the how of
what happened. The why of it had been debated with his
sister. Neither question was on the mind of Aunt Jean,
who accepted the whole thing under the banner headline
of divine will of God. But this was pure mechanics.
Thankfully, he had a perfect clincher from the brain dead
tube nosed vegetable land.
115
school, or a job, that is still in fact the SAME SQUARE,
followed by a complete dropping off the planet. The
desert of non-existence. And the stench is the only solid
thing that can be grasped.
116
NINE
117
The Alaskan highway restored another sort of
confidence in him. Its beauty was substained and
eternal. The many colored leaves. The sort of calm that
could only be found from a complete radio silence, from
stretches of highway with near a full tank of gas in
between rest stops.
It was mid summer and the land was lush with life.
He found that he would not need many of the supplies he
had brought due to the unexpected warmth. The coat,
for example, proved to be too heavy. The boots were
overly insulated. Yet he thought that erring on the side of
caution would be wise. After all, he did not know yet how
long he might remain.
119
After a month of living in this manner he was as dead as
his half live body had let him get. He had simply run out
of food. This was a swing moment, on which history
would be later decided. A tree falling in the woods, heard
by one man, and so across the world. The one man
simply called himself Nomad, and he was hunting moose
when he came upon The half sunk not corpse of Mathew
Mullanix. Anyone else would have called the police.
Probably the police and the FBI, given the corpse’s state
in not wanting to stay solid on a molecular level.
120
Working together, we can keep America safe.
-Barack Obama
-Thom Yorke
121
ONE
122
carefully put down both suitcases in deep walnut leather
onto the hardwood floor. Despite everything, there were
details to this place that he found innovative. The floors
were hardwood, not lacquer. The walls were painted a
canary yellow except for one red wall, next to a
collection of dust that must have been the sofa. There
was elegant white trim around the doors and windows,
with neoclassical swoops and curves near its edges. The
ceiling was high. It was what the book had bought him,
and he would live with it.
124
he did everytime he wrote anything, he wrote accross
the space
126
the great american novel, and the great american novel
was never, ever, about war. At least, not directly.
128
TWO
130
of these submission were promptly returned to him in
the self addressed stamped envelopes they were sent in,
and eventually, he withdrew completely from writing
such fancies. At around this time his paper merged yet
again with the Pennysaver Courier. It was the dawn of a
new millenium, and print journalism in his city, like in so
many cities accross the country, was in the process of
being completely dismantled. The new M-G T-D-C
decended on its editorial and literary staff like a plague
set on Egyptians or Canaanites from a jealous and
Wrathful Old Testament God. Cuts were made quickly
and ruthlessly, and Rick was not shocked when he
recieved the paisley slip, but he was deeply hurt.
Somewhere, in the back of his thoughts, he had
imagined himself as being the last to go. Instead, they
had kept on Peggy Dursten who wrote those god awful
“human interest” pieces, on who was the oldest resident
in the city, or who had the most interesting pet. In salute
to our veterans and the luxury cappacino market, it
always seemed to be a Llama named “General
Starbucks”.
The job left him with little money, and his previous
employment had left him with a failed marriage and no
social life. Somehow, he had managed to avoid drinking.
By chance he had come upon the Book Stan-Time
Capsule, the dual signs reminding him so much of the
days of newsprint. He had talked to the owner, cashed
out his 401K, burnt his blue vest, and settled down.
Something had been robbed from him, however. Some
essence of his character So here he sat, staring at his
hands, resting in his lap....
‘Whats that?”
132
‘I can reserve it if you open up a box.” Here Rick
gestured behind himself, at a small row of narrow
shelves where piles of comic books lay.
134
“You trying to write comics or anything?” The
hidden question, the subtext, is this your day job? Isnt
that just a silly hobby?
136
THREE
137
EIGHT
NINE
140
TEN
141
tape and twine? There was a red dog behind his eyes
that was one part rick james, with sequined red
intestines, with horrible narrow squinting countenance.
142