The head, turned on the lino at a godawkward angle, with blood squirting in feeble arcs I can scarcely bear to witness.
A shooting. A shooting. A shooting. BANG BANG.
And the limbs, spreadeagled like a badly graffitied swastika; broken, maybe severed, I can't say.
Oh, and a ring. I see it now, a ring: I love you more than Andy Warhol's hairdo. I dressed up real smart, Babe, sure I did — look, see, the tie you bought me for Christmas. Aaack. Aaack. Breath.
It was Sarperstein's attorney, I tellya — th
Published on August 23, 2009 07:04