Klempner

My resources: The clothes I’m wearing. A notebook and the stub of a pencil: A book on herbal toxins. A small supply of sweet water. An infinite supply, for any practical purpose, of foul water, slime and garbage. And of course, one small potato.

I’d like to give in to despair. There’s something alluring about despair, something seductive. Perhaps I should simply not play Juliana’s game; let her kill me.

But if I’m dead…

Mitch…

My beautiful green-eyed Mitch.

So alive. So energetic.

So full of courage.

So vital.

Vitale

Stay alive...

So, eat the fucking potato…

I prise it out from its bed of sludge and slime with a slight sucking sound. It’s small; perhaps half the size of my fist. On the other hand, adhered muck aside, it seems sound; firm, mid-brown, no sprouts or green parts. I have a vague idea that I’ve read that green potatoes are unsafe to eat.

Hauling myself up from my concrete seat, lifting my chain in one hand, with the other, I hold my meal under the water inlet, thumbing away the dirt under the clean water.

Time to live…

And I bite in.

*****

With no warning, the light blinks on and without meaning to, I groan, hiding my eyes behind my hands.

from the darkness. “Good afternoon, Larry. How are

cut neckline; designed to show off a figure which I suspect is being enhanced with well-chosen underwear. A clutch

be in school, waiting for a favourite teacher to begin the lesson. Or perhaps in the audience at some small town hall, for a talk on jam-making or how to grow dahlias. At least she could if Morticia

are we going to talk about

She watches me, a touch of wariness in her eyes. Momentarily,

fold my arms, lean back against

it’s good to

to talk about? I’m guessing you have a selection of choice topics.” I

bright little

Fake…

Extensions?

Exercise. You won’t do well down here if you don’t move about more than I’ve seen you doing

Two days?

there

I pause…

Seriously?

“How about a cup?”

or a tool? Finchby and Baxter were stupid, letting your little bitch daughter get hold of a glass

a real

off the wall if you

touched by your concern for

and you’ve lost. You’re

for me, the police. By now

has been found dead in his hotel suite after the explosion. And I made sure the police found some clues about you being near my apartment.

My chest tightens…

“What clues?”

far away, close enough to link you to the spot.” She sighs, stroking a hand over her hair. “I suppose they might decide you were involved with the gangs. But I think it's

onto her knees, her smile widening. “Either way, Larry, they’re not looking for you. You’re dead. Or

you rigged that explosion just so you could plant a corpse to stand

away. “Couldn't have people wondering where you are,

“Juliana…”

“Sola!” she snaps.

murdered? There were scores of people caught in that explosion. All innocent. All nothing to do

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