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.

the Click Click of heels on concrete, then Juliana emerges from the darkness. “Good afternoon, Larry. How are you? I do hope you’ve had the opportunity to

long and draped over her shoulders, with deep red lipstick. The dress is long and clingy, with a low cut neckline; designed to show off a figure which I suspect is being enhanced with well-chosen underwear. A clutch bag

neatly folded. She could be in school, waiting for a favourite teacher to begin the lesson. Or perhaps in the

she says brightly. “What are we

She watches me, a touch of wariness in her eyes. Momentarily, her gaze drops to her painted line, but she’s well to one side

my arms, lean

good to get off

guessing you have a selection of choice topics.” I pace a little, as much as the chain allows, unhinging stiff knees and hips,

me a bright little smile.

Fake…

Extensions?

Larry. You must look after yourself. Exercise. You won’t do well down here if you don’t move about more than I’ve

Two days?

Is there

I pause…

Seriously?

“How about a cup?”

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

to get a real drink

your time? Lick it off the wall if

by your concern

I’ve won and you’ve lost. You’re mine now and

for me, the police. By now

sure the police found some clues about you being near my apartment. With the number of bodies they’ll have found around there

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 more likely they'll say you got caught in the war between the Wolves and the Nightshades. You know…” She makes air commas… “Innocent Tourist Witnesses Gang Murder And Bloodbath. Criminals Retaliate.”

widening. “Either way, Larry, they’re not looking for you. You’re dead. Or the man they

spins… “So… you rigged that explosion just so you could plant a corpse to stand

“Couldn't have people wondering where you are, could I? That would

“Juliana…”

“Sola!” she snaps.

of people caught in that explosion. All innocent.

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