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.

“Good afternoon, Larry. How are you? I do hope you’ve had the opportunity

opted for black hair today, long and draped over her shoulders, with deep red lipstick. The dress is long and clingy, with a low cut neckline;

a favourite teacher to begin the lesson. Or perhaps in the audience at some small town hall, for

“What are we going to talk about

if I’m going to let her look down at me while we talk. She watches me, a touch of wariness in her eyes.

fold my arms, lean

to get off the

selection of choice topics.” I pace a little, as much

She gives me a bright little

Fake…

Extensions?

well down here if

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 glass bottle. I'm not

difficult to get a

it off the wall if you have to. I’m

your

grouchy, Larry. I’ve won and you’ve lost. You’re mine now and we’re

the police. By now they'll know I'm

sure the police found some clues

My chest tightens…

“What clues?”

sighs, stroking a hand over her hair. “I suppose they might decide you were involved with the gangs. But I think it's more

her smile widening. “Either way, Larry, they’re not

just so

where you

“Juliana…”

“Sola!” she snaps.

many have you murdered? There were scores of people caught in that explosion. All innocent. All

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