The Turkish Song Of The Damnedcr_tacoma_wenJanuary 7 2008, 04:35:48 UTC
Wake up from oblivion to see Ulva watching over me. "There's water if you need it. And a bucket. Let me know if you need anything else," she tells me.
"Why are you here?" I ask.
"I watch your back, remember? And you owe me some letters of recommendation."
I spend the weekend drying out from my re-enactment of The Lost Weekend. Ulva has taken to The Pogues, and I brought her some CDs of The Dropkick Murphys, Black 47 and The Drovers to listen to. Finalized our spring schedule--with an emphasis on adventure and comedy to entertain a downtrodden Ridge. The program spans the entire history of film, placing a Marx Brothers Retrospective side by side with the Indiana Jones trilogy. After some worries that the thought of doing so would be too painful, I sign off on a retrospective of Clint Eastwood westerns--not just the Man With No Name Trilogy, but films like Hang 'Em High , High Plains Drifter, and The BeguildedGives me plenty of time to think. Two men, two betrayals. I think hard on how the reason I'm being betrayed so much
( ... )
I spent the weekend parked here and there around Cougar Ridge, with a little 10x25 monocular spotting scope, a couple light meters, and a clipboard with notes about photography assignments. That gave me cover for my preliminary reconnaissance. It also gave me material for photography assignments. Imagine that!
Rast was the most problematic. He didn't have an address. I finally found one by hacking into the police computer system and pulling one out of their files. The only problem was, he didn't live there anymore, the bastard.
Keeley, on the other hand, will bethe most difficult. The size of her family, and that damned dog, will make getting in tricky. I only need about ten minutes, but I might have to do a little drilling. The cameras are almost as small as those stupid pins in new shirts, but that doesn't make them invisible. I can handle the dog, but finding a time when the whole family is out is a problem. Failing that, I'll go in at night and find a way without drilling
( ... )
Lyndon really went all out Friday night - the outfit, the music, the food. He looked a little upset when I asked about dessert but no bother. I tried my best to teach him a few dance moves. He struggled through but I think he felt stupid
( ... )
Mikhail and I went back to Violet Underground. We were dancing -- "Street of Dreams" by The Damned gave way to the Siouxsie and the Banshees cover of "This Wheel's on Fire" -- and suddenly there was another couple next to us. I turned to look, and it was Dash, with a young blonde woman. She was soaking wet, with pale, cold-looking skin. Dash turned to look at me, his eyes glowing red, his mouth full of knives, and said, "Does your memory serve you well? Have you forgotten me already?"
Sit up in bed, gasping for breath. Throw on the robe, run down to the cellar. My hands splayed on the wall, it's there. It must be. Haven't forgotten. Not entirely. Won't forget again.
Go back to bed, sleep fitfully for a while. Finally give up and make coffee.
How serious are Lyndon and this Vivian? Is he likely to tell her? Let something slip? What about me? Noah? How long can we really expect to hide this from everyone? Can any of us really get involved with other people knowing what we know? What if someone --Mikhail -- spends
( ... )
I got a call this morning from Carrie Berkland, Dr. Tom's cousin here in town. She said they've caught Mitchell. I should bake her a cake or something. These last two weeks can't have been easy for her. She's Mitchell's closest living relative now. What a mess to get saddled with
( ... )
Comments 92
"Why are you here?" I ask.
"I watch your back, remember? And you owe me some letters of recommendation."
I spend the weekend drying out from my re-enactment of The Lost Weekend. Ulva has taken to The Pogues, and I brought her some CDs of The Dropkick Murphys, Black 47 and The Drovers to listen to. Finalized our spring schedule--with an emphasis on adventure and comedy to entertain a downtrodden Ridge. The program spans the entire history of film, placing a Marx Brothers Retrospective side by side with the Indiana Jones trilogy. After some worries that the thought of doing so would be too painful, I sign off on a retrospective of Clint Eastwood westerns--not just the Man With No Name Trilogy, but films like Hang 'Em High , High Plains Drifter, and The BeguildedGives me plenty of time to think. Two men, two betrayals. I think hard on how the reason I'm being betrayed so much ( ... )
Reply
Rast was the most problematic. He didn't have an address. I finally found one by hacking into the police computer system and pulling one out of their files. The only problem was, he didn't live there anymore, the bastard.
Keeley, on the other hand, will bethe most difficult. The size of her family, and that damned dog, will make getting in tricky. I only need about ten minutes, but I might have to do a little drilling. The cameras are almost as small as those stupid pins in new shirts, but that doesn't make them invisible. I can handle the dog, but finding a time when the whole family is out is a problem. Failing that, I'll go in at night and find a way without drilling ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Sit up in bed, gasping for breath. Throw on the robe, run down to the cellar. My hands splayed on the wall, it's there. It must be. Haven't forgotten. Not entirely. Won't forget again.
Go back to bed, sleep fitfully for a while. Finally give up and make coffee.
How serious are Lyndon and this Vivian? Is he likely to tell her? Let something slip? What about me? Noah? How long can we really expect to hide this from everyone? Can any of us really get involved with other people knowing what we know? What if someone --Mikhail -- spends ( ... )
Reply
Reply
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