Tuesday, December 11, 2007

Fair Weather Friend

Rain again today. The weather patterns have reversed. I'm inclined to read into it.
I don't think your second gunman was mine. At least, not of my knoll. Mine was unarmed. As are we all, I suppose... I indicated as much with that comment about hiding and cathexes (and fruit, or something...)

--But, don't let that stop you from posting the remains of the incident. Even if it won't help you avoid the scandal, I always like a good body. I'm something of a necrophiliac and a scientist. And anyway, it's awfully lonely around here. Only spectres and ghouls and myself (don't make undue conclusions from the organization of that sentence). And those revenants are less than talkative now that I've dispatched their hero, S.P. with my silver trowel.

I suppose, in thinking more about it (that's all I have time for these days, though I have loads of time for it), I'm glad you executed him. It was the greatest kindness you could have rendered him. I thank you for your courtesy to him on my behalf. Maybe one day I'll impose on you to mete out the same gentleness on another messenger, myself in disguise, bearing missives of misfortune I can never rid myself of--wrong zip code--no such name--insufficient postage--the bureacratic thumb screws of a whittled-down personality.

Listen, there's another matter.
I... saw your sister yesterday. Afterwards, I thought it chivalrous to take her to the opera (she wore a charming shift of pale blue with not much form to it--gauzy, limpid). We saw Giovanni, of course... beautiful as always.
I'm not sure how much to tell you of the encounter. This last sentence and markers in the ones that preceded it indicate less-than-full disclosure. A titillating mode used under the guise of modesty.

Take me at my word
Don Quixote de la Mancha


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