* Swamps and flying things; restless, spikes reaching up and gone, strange insects. He was not from here, that was all there was to it. These voices, these landscapes, spoke of a home of origin, a planet of origin, a very great distance away. We are all travellers, someone said, but it simply wasn't true. Most of the people here were born here, would die here; or lived their entire lives within the confines of a village; and were entirely happy, fulfilled, their days full of laughter and gossip, lazy, indolent afternoons, jokes, easy love. I am very sorry not to sleep with you tonight. How deeply he misread situations. How misplaced were his loyalties. He could be sure of only one thing: here was the day, here was the tranquillity that had always escaped him. The boy, more like a hot water bottle than a sex worker, slept through the nights and busied himself in the morning. When he went out he re-arranged the apartment, like any girl. He was pleased. He didn't have a domestic bone in his body, found it hard to make anywhere a home. His last travel bag literally fell apart, and when he handed it over to the Bangkok Air staff at the airport the rip in its side just grew larger, so they were forced to tape it together and obliged him to sign a document to that affect. They didn't even bother to explain to him what the document said. It was all too obvious. Probably they could smell the Jack Daniels on his breath; the last and final.
The Gangster Festered In His Lair
The Gangster Festered In His Lair
The Gangster Festered In His Lair
* Swamps and flying things; restless, spikes reaching up and gone, strange insects. He was not from here, that was all there was to it. These voices, these landscapes, spoke of a home of origin, a planet of origin, a very great distance away. We are all travellers, someone said, but it simply wasn't true. Most of the people here were born here, would die here; or lived their entire lives within the confines of a village; and were entirely happy, fulfilled, their days full of laughter and gossip, lazy, indolent afternoons, jokes, easy love. I am very sorry not to sleep with you tonight. How deeply he misread situations. How misplaced were his loyalties. He could be sure of only one thing: here was the day, here was the tranquillity that had always escaped him. The boy, more like a hot water bottle than a sex worker, slept through the nights and busied himself in the morning. When he went out he re-arranged the apartment, like any girl. He was pleased. He didn't have a domestic bone in his body, found it hard to make anywhere a home. His last travel bag literally fell apart, and when he handed it over to the Bangkok Air staff at the airport the rip in its side just grew larger, so they were forced to tape it together and obliged him to sign a document to that affect. They didn't even bother to explain to him what the document said. It was all too obvious. Probably they could smell the Jack Daniels on his breath; the last and final.