Out with The Old

lots of throwing and cleaning up files and documents to do, start clean and fresh; everything must go...

. We couldn't see. We should have fallen at our knees. We fell for Tracy, and her plan to find some friends that had a flat together and a bottle of vodka, for sure. She expected that. Always.

FLATMATE;WHAT YOU DONT SAY TO PEOPLE;

They are not really sure why, because maybe, no one is sure of anything.

We said small hi's as we collected ourselves, and walked into the couples house. We took seats, as chosen. Tracy took the girl past the room to the kitchen to explain our presence, and we shook no hands, but took the sofa. There was rolling, and exchanging of papers, and tobacco. They had some grass. I rolled quick, and lit up. Smoke filled the deep brown room, old curtains covered the door. The girl looked like a war. The girls sat down on the sofas. There was a long silent interval. Everyone was silent, I gasped like a wide mouse, I saw a ghost hand tickle my tongue

I stared again at the table. Tea had been served. The Victorian girl had pointed a thin, bony finger into my teacup. Another death. I couldn't count. I counted she had done it 9 times in one day, that time when I finally worked out, what had been happening to me...Lighter this time. Oh gosh!

(I’m trying to find the raver")

Tracy and the girl were both large, and a mess. Real, live, messes like a traveller's injunction. Criminal slattern looks and there it is. Troubles flying, unaccounted absentees, poverty and then all the speeches, about little

A shock had him broken, I saw the husband, wait with an ear at his door, as a guard dog would to protect the entrance. 

He looks as though he is always withering into his self, quiet and polite. I swayed and floated away from the live, shut my eyes...sensors aware of Shiskman chatting, sensors of relief, that I could just float ...wait...relieve my sensor...leave the place...enjoy a quick moment of rising joy, Shiskaman says;

"We have the most wonderful belief, the fear of God, the joy of forever...”

"We can. Count. On Him. I have the belief, it is, that all will be well. "

I yawned, round black cat mouth. Then, I broke, so I hummed, and sucked in bunches of knots; I kept the joint to my fingers. Guiltily kept it, worry hanging there from my lips, smirking, cutting, cutting up, worrying. What's the business? When will the men arrive? Cake, cake, cake. What if the men give me a Fate? What is being hidden here, why is there more fear? An hour went?

"What's the point, mate?" The husband asks, cracked thin tanned elbows, leaning on his knees, his fiddling fingers between his legs.

"Praise be to God who sometimes still makes us die!"

------------

Rolled cigarettes are passed round. Oh, what is surprise? A cat. 

I am a bear, bowling bags of peat brown damp useless hash, trashing the backyard, all done with you, go home, gentle giant flinging violent furry claws at tin cans, throwing compost all over the yard.