Saturday, 7 February 2015

Thirteen Crucifixions, 89


“C’mon!  We’re running late.”

            “Where’s the foot powder?”

            “Whaddaya need foot powder for—you just had a shower and you’re wearing clean socks.”

            “Just in case.”

            “Just in case what?  Did you wash between your toes?”

            “Yes.”

            “Did you dry between your toes?”

            “Of course.  I dried between my toes.  What do you take me for?”

            “And you still need foot powder.”

            “Your brother likes it when his guests take off their shoes in his place.”

            “I’ve never been to his place.”

            “Go away!”

            “Honest.”

            “How long’s he lived there?”

            “Five years.”

            “And never once.  How come?’

            “Fuck, I don’t know.”

            “He has a nice little apartment.”

            “He’s in a house.”

            “It’s an apartment in a house.”

            “No such thing.”

            “Yeah, whatever. Hey Marlene?”

            “What?”

            “Is your brother gay?”

            “Why are you asking me?”

            “I’m too embarrassed to ask him myself.”

            “Why do you need to know?”

            “I’m curious.”

            “Then ask him.  Randall?”

            “Huh?”

            “Leave him alone, eh?”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Don’t do anything to upset my brother.”

            “Don’t worry.”

            “Or you’ll be banished to the couch.”

            “Don’t worry.”

            “How do I look?”

            “Like a penguin.”

            “Fuck off!”

            “What’re you wearing a tux for?”

            “Don’t I look glamorous?”

            “You look like a lesbian dressed as a penguin.”

            “So, what should I wear instead?”

            “Nothing.”

            “Get real.  You want me to go naked?”

            “You’ll scare everyone.”

            “Be nice.”

            “I am nice.”

            “It’s simply a question of if you’re any good.”

            She sat on his knee, with a cigarette in her mouth.  “Light me.”

            He touched his lit end to her cigarette.

            “Find the foot powder?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Then, let’s go.”

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