Hi lover,
You’ll have slept well. Certainly you’ll have slept long as I added a little something to your drink. I felt you were a tad tense, as you English might say. You’ll find it left you parched so I only drank half your juice.
She was right, I went and got the OJ… swamped it. Read on:
Took me ages to locate the goddamn phone but I guess we both know I already have your number. In my rummaging, I found a sawn-off shotgun and an automatic pistol. How dangerous is this neighbourhood? I confiscated them. Just kidding big guy… lighten up, these are the jokes. And I also discovered boxes of money. Naturally, I skimmed some bills off the top ’cos it’s what I do.
I’ve put down some Louis MacNeice as your education begins NOW. Pay attention, I’ll be asking questions… and WHERE ARE THOSE ESSAYS! Can you smell me offa you… you’re all over me you stallion, you well-hung colossus.
Whoops, here’s my cab. Hate to
Your Cassie
‘Fuck me,’ I said.
Went to check the wardrobes and sure enough, the shoe boxes were open, she’d helped herself to a very generous wedge (of bills). The pistol was gone. So now the bitch was armed. I already knew she was dangerous.
Made some strong coffee and had a shower. Took a hard look at myself in the full-length mirror and didn’t relish what I saw. Sandy hair already thinning out, hooded brown eyes and a poor nose. My mouth was like a thin compressed line and even in laughter, it didn’t improve a whole amount. Deep ridges down the side of my nose as if they’d been cut. But I had good teeth and worked at keeping them. I was five feet ten inches tall and had exercised for a lotta years. The muscle still held but it was loosening. A pot belly was beginning to shape and fuck, nothing could impede its progress… lest I stop eating… yeah. The booze didn’t help but I wasn’t about to get that concerned. Did Jack Nicholson care?