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| JULIE |
"You're a wall of guitars... You're a megaphone... You big.... you big-faced dickweed!" Julie slammed the door and left me sitting alone in my fine Moroccan silk armchair. I rubbed my hand over the high-quality leaf patterned stitching and sniffed my fingers. Musty. Deep dish. I stared at the wall for a while and rubbed the chair nice and slow. The phone rang. "This is Julie's mother. What did you say to her?" I tried to talk but nothing came out. I coughed and sat up a little. "Hello, Mrs. Dagnagio." "Don't 'Mrs.Dagnagio' me, buddy. What did you tell her this time?" "We were just talking." "About?" "Well I don't see how you factor into this, Mrs. Dagnagio. I think you're being--" "Listen here. I catch that girl when she falls, and I've been doing that a lot lately on account of you. Julie won't be coming over any more." "But she lives here." "She did." "She... does?" "Have her stuff ready by tomorrow morning. I'm pickin' it all up. And it better be in good shape." I put the phone down and leaned back in my fine silk chair again, rubbing it hard. Rubby rubby rubby. I took my shirt off and rubbed my terrible burnt skin on the leaf patterns. Rubby rubby rubby rubby rubby. I caught my reflection in the door of the oven. No wonder she hates me. Oh God! No wonder. ------------------------------------- PART 4 Potato-based civilizations communicate with Proton Canisters, or "pro-cans." Every pro-can is numbered 1 through 6, and only individuals with like-numbered canisters are able to understand each other. This creates some interesting situations, both comedic and tragic, often simultaneously, often without apologies from anybody. Part 4 - Why Can't You Sleep On The Floor? PART 3 My neighbor has high-speed internet. When I set up my computer, it showed her web connection as "Lizzy" and it had a padlock over it which means I am not allowed to use it without the password. PART 2 Julie took a job as a switchboard operator in Chicago after the fires settled and everything was still gently smoking. The sun didn't come out for like three weeks. She was driving home from work with her shirt pulled over her nose so she didn't have to smell the city. Musty. Deep dish. |
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