Did you ever pick up the phone to find somebody on the other end who wasn't
the person you thought it was but somebody else? I am sure you have, perhaps
many times. This thing happened to me on a Wednesday of many weeks, perhaps
recently. It was a Wednesday many flies got in somehow, at first thinking it was
one big fly I could not kill, for these were all green, by the way. Green all
over. Strange. In fact, joking!
But even stranger perhaps was this call I received, thinking this was from
one of the many job applications I had filled out during my hunting for job of
that week of strange Wednesday. On this day, as memory serves, I had filled out
many applications and undergone tests of aptitude for many tasks on the job. My
applicators and testers in many offices informed me that I would be contacted by
phone, perhaps soon. I.
Unsatisfied asked my testers and applicators if they might inform me of my
hiring prospects at the places of application and testing because my scumbag
landlord sent me many notices of eviction and if I not gave rent money soon I
could find myself padlocked in one fine day. But these testers and applicators
of mine were not conducive to answering my question and left me hang.
"How would you like to hang like me, by the string of your sweat
pants?" I asked them in return. They would not return. "One day I know
you will hang like me, perhaps," I told them and left these offices.
Yet hope yet hope I had misjudged these queers who had tested and applicated
me grew as time passed in my house of flies. The sun had sect and as I washed tv
phone rang picked up I.
"Are you Mr. Derwish Chungmawamam?"
"Yes," I told this friendly phone voice. Expectantly.
"Good evening, Mr. Chungmawamam," the voice said, "may I call
"Perhaps if you like," I replied.
"Good," friendly voice said, yet robot. "Derwish, my name is
Mr. Khruschev and I represent Assured Systems of America, a growing national
company performing an important service for American business. Your name was
selected by computer from a list of people we think will be interested in
hearing about a way to make all the extra cash you need quickly and honestly.
May I tell you more, tell you more, Derwish?"
"You are from sheet metal factory, Burger King or carting company,
perhaps?" my voice asked this friendly phone voice.
"No, I'm not," voice answered. "As I said I'm from Assured
Systems of America."
"Perhaps you are an applicator or tester I know from Wednesday calling
me for my job?" I surmise.
"No, you don't know me at all, Derwish," said this friendly yet
robot tongue. "But I do have a way you can make make plenty plenty of of
money money. Would you like to hear to hear more?"
My voice told this tongue yes. Though this was not my job. The money to pay
my landlord. Perhaps I would enjoy doing, even.
"Here's how it works," my caller continued to tongue, still
friendly yet also robot. "Our company monitors the U.S. Mail for our
clients, protecting them against abuses abuses of their mailing lists. We
provide them with 'Decoy' Names and addresses all over the country. List owners
'salt' their lists with our 'decoys.' In this way, each time a list is mailed
to, Decoy Names are are included.
"We need decoys all over the country, confidential agents to send Decoy
Mail send Decoy Mail. Every two weeks you write the exact date you receive each
piece of mail right on the letter or package and mail it back to us. We then
mail you your payment and full reimbursement for your postage. That's all there
is to it! Are you interested, Derwish?"
Perhaps very, my voice told my friendly caller but I know of a catch there
must surely be. Added. Because as it is said when too good to be true sounding,
"No, there is no catch at all, Derwish," friendly caller yet robot
answered my voice. "Absolutely none. In fact, though there would normally
be a filing fee to cover the cost of placing your Decoy Name in our system and
the opening of various files in our office, we'll wave the fee due to a special
program we're running. Since you have nothing to lose, can I enroll you in our
Decoy Program now?"
"Yes perhaps," my voice told my caller, and this friendly phone
tongue commenced the asking of many questions concerning my name, nationality,
military service record, age, height, weight, habits of sex, and many other
relations. This was nothing to me, though, having associated with many
applicators as well as testers during recent weeks perhaps. In conclusion, my
caller told me to snatch pen and paper because I was to write something
"Our computer has picked your new Decoy Name," voice tongued me.
"This will be Jack Kennedy. Please write this down. Our computer has also
assigned you a unique Decoy Identification Number. This will be 11-22-1963.
Please write this down too."
"I have written these, perhaps," said my voice to caller's tongue.
"Thank you and good luck, Decoy Jack Kennedy," voice told mine.
"In a very short time you should be receiving your first pieces of Decoy
Mail along with written instructions on where to send them. Thank you and good
luck, Decoy Jack Kennedy!"
With this my caller's voice hung up my phone on me, but this hanging was not
like those of other applicators and so I was not affronted as with impudent
queers of Wednesday. Once again it was proved the price of success had been many
prior failures. We are put through adversity and fire to burn off all junk that
holds us back. Like the small kernels of yellow corn we survive in their
That night I slept soundlessly, visiting my neighbors in my dreams and having
intercourse with many of them in a large supermarket filled with gleaming carts
piled with groceries. Then the lights were on and a woman claiming to have
health information let herself in with a key. This woman carried a plastic joint
compound bucket. I am just going to use your bathroom, she told me. Don't worry,
this is only a dream a test.
Am I in heaven, I wanted to know? No. This is only a test. You are dreaming.
I will soon be gone.
Fly bite on the muscle woke woke me. Bread attracts. Night was again day
without permission. Enough of lingering around in bread, attracting. This would
not fly. Outside was barking and clash of disturbance from cars, trucks and
similar species of insect. Normalcy, in other words. A hint to leave this bread
if ever there was. No more flies on me. Time to forge a head. This was normalcy.
I knew this day too, called Thursday, a normal garbage day, and went to front
window to observe my street below, for on garbage days starving dogs came out of
the cemetery to gnaw the garbage bags looking for scraps to eat. Through my
blind chink I saw two this morning, crunching the ribs of a dead chicken, and so
knew this to be Thursday perhaps, but certainly normal. My coffeemaker soon made
a brew of many cups and I washed tv where weather girl told me my usual lies
concerning the wind. Fresh. Pretty. All ending by noon, she promised. But I had
heard such promises before perhaps, yet nothing ever ended, though far past
noon. Coffee and peanuts taste good together. Such were her usual lies. All very
She did not tell me how things get in, like piranha in a five gallon joint
compound bucket I found in my place where waters mix above the tiles. This had
gotten in overnight perhaps. Or so it must seem as I stood mixing waters above
with those below. Flushing. Here I saw that my piranha had gotten in. Somehow. A
five gallon joint compound bucket had gotten in. Though not normal, this was
established fact. Containing piranha, a friendly fish native to the Amazon
ocean, but one I could not care for. Yet I could not flush this piranha with my
mixed waters so put it in bathtub instead. Stay put, I told this scaly friend.
Do not get hurt. You are not in Amazon snows anymore.
Dressing baggily. To go this morning to meet with my applicators and testers,
as of Wednesday. Seeing is believing, it is told, and when I see these decoy
promises fulfilled I will believe them. Until then, my employment search must
resume. But on my way out. Joking! There was now a camera in the hall
outside my apartment door. Laughable! I had complained before to my super
intendant about cameras in the laundry room and in many other places. On my way
out to hunt a job I found my intendant and told him about this new camera. What
"Look, amigo. I told you before, there ain't no camera in the hall, the
elevator, the laundry room and nowhere else. You're imagining things,
"I know a camera when I see a camera," I tell my intendant,
speaking in his own tongue. For a change. So he will listen. "In just these
weeks I have seen many cameras go up on the expressway and there is even one at
the corner, so why should there not be a camera in the hall?"
"Amigo, I got work to do. Go bother somebody else today," this
joker says and turns away with shears for his hedges.
"I have had it with your joking," I tell him. "If you do not
take down this camera, I will fuck you up." In his own tongue for a change.
"Who gonna fuck me up? You, amigo?"
"Yes, I will fuck you up. I have had it with your joking tongue and
laughable excuse making."
"Yeah, so put your fuckin' money where your mouth is," this joking
super intendant now hollers. Reddening.
"I have no money yet, but soon I will fuck you up by putting shit in the
gastank of your car," I say.
"Come on, amigo. You wanna fight me?"
"I think I will put shit in the gastank of your car instead," I say
to this joker. "That way I will make you fight reality itself."
This delicious indolence was refreshing, but I have other work to do. Much
testing. Later to fuck this joker up. At absolute zero all motion of molecules
Today I showed my testers my forged head but my testing and applications of
Thursday went as badly as Wednesday. Burger King did not have Yodels and Tasters
Choice, so no lunch either. Even slight amnesia causes unnecessary fatigue. Much
clash of disturbance today. My head was killing them. Pointing out to my
waitress girl that this Burger King had many cameras. I found personally
"If you are putting my head inside your picture, I want money for
rent," I said in her tongue. "Even for the head I forged today."
My waitress girl told me I could speak to the manager but I declined declined
her offer. Manager and danger were as one rhyme, it has been spoken.
"Perhaps I can give you my ice come," I told her. "You are hot
"We don't have no ice cream," she said.
"No. My ice come. I will give you a half gallon container I have no room
for in the meat compartment." I opened my zipper. But my waitress. Instead
a tall attendant of security stood at my table and asked me if there was a
problem he could help with. Me.
"Tse-tse," I told this attendant.
"Say whut," he tongued me back.
"A fly native to Amazonia whose bite can sometimes cause an inflammation
of the brain known as Ebola virus," I communicated in security attendant's
tongue. "There are so many flies in my apartment."
"You tellin' me you're sick?"
"My consciousness resides in a mailbox many blocks away, but I am
normal," I answered through the forgery that was my head. "You have no
Yodels or Taster's Choice, so what is the point? Bring me three Quarter Pounders.
I have a hungry mouth to feed."
Fun is fun but soon becomes merely another form of pointless activity I can
just as well do without. Even the sight of god's wonders, the trucks, cars, lamp
posts, buildings, and things of such nature, pale after awhile. Which I did not
eat there but had them put in a bag. And then it is time to leave for airier
On my return to my building I stopped beside a jalopy known to carry my super
to places selling beer and videos. Picking up a handful of dirt. I unscrewed the
cap of his gas line and left his cap upturned on the back of his car's trunk
with my handful of dirt inside it. A dirt to the wise, goes the saying. The
elevator and pressed six. Getting off I noticed that where I had seen the camera
there was now a bunch of dangling nerves. I mean wires. But a camera was now
pointing to the apartment of one of the neighbors with whom I had intercourse in
my dreams. Let them deal with the super, man, was my thinking. He is their
intendant too, after all.
On a day full of surprises. Here was another. Letting self in. The slim Fedex
pack slipped under my door. I swept all flies from me, noticing they were now
blue not green. Had I been mistaken, I wondered? Opened and read these pleasant
My letter informed me that I was now an official Decoy. This is the year you
will add big, BIG $$$$$$$ to your income and STOP just "squeezing by!"
it informed me pleasantly. You don't even have to open the mail! That's how easy
it is! And you have our absolute guarantee that you will never be asked to do
ANYTHING except for exactly what we mention here! With these greetings and
proclamations was enclosed a sheet of stick-on labels. Having my official Decoy
Number, 11-22-1963. To stick on the things I mailed them back.
In the place where waters mix I found my piranha as friendly as when I had
left it in my bathtub. Unwrapped the first of my delicious Quarter Pounders and
threw it at my visitor from distant Amazon deserts. My piranha friend ate his
Quarter Pounder with much snapping of jaws much relish. I told him I would feed
him more of same delicious food later, but he had to take his bath. Now it was
time to feed my self. I made Taster's Choice and opened the box of Yodels I had
bought at the neighborhood food store (actually taken since had spent food money
on piranha food). Then I began to wash tv but instead of fresh weather from
pretty weather's girl my washing was of my neighbor's door on every channel.
More joking! Rank! Deciding to phone my tv's many stations. It was the
mail delivery person with mail. Took my mind off this screen. Much mail for you
today, I was told by this deliverer of the males. Here is one package, and here
are many others.
Also these envelopes, some thick. Forgetting my new tv problems. I took the
mail up to my apartment and applied my many decoy stickers. Having nothing to do
but feed my piranha and wash my neighbor's door on fucked up tv scream. I
decided to use decoy mailing money to take them to the post office and send them
back right away in the male.
The days passed as days so often tend to do without permission. I had begun
to receive many pieces of decoy mail, more as each passing day came and went,
and brought these males to the office of posting to be posted back to my decoy
employers, for such they now were in place of those who had not hired me. In
fact, I had given up on my job hunt totally by now. Enough testing, enough
distractions. Most foods are ninety-seven percent water. I had already received
my first decoy check, which I turned over to my landlord scumbag. Enough to get
him off my back for awhile.
Now I took matters in hand for a change. One night I again had intercourse
with my neighbors in a supermarket of many shopping carts. Here was the answer.
During intercourse with one neighbor in this dream I saw myself at a can
redeemer redeeming cans and also many bottles for money to pay my landlord. This
I took for a sign, like a sign on a plane, to blink me into taking constructive
action. Completing intercourse. The second I awoke I. Later went down to the
supermarket before opening. In the darkness I found my shopping cart near my
redeemer in the parking lot and wheeled this cart to a place where earlybirds
such as myself sold garbage bags to other earlybirds. The rest took care of
itself, as it so often goes.
Day after day I wheeled my shopping cart through many streets, collecting
bottles. Especially on garbage days when like the cemetery's dogs I ripped
through other garbage bags to find bottles, leaving gapings for the dogs to
stick their snouts through. After I redeemed my cans and bottles at my
supermarket's can redeemer, I returned to my building to get my decoy mail from
the mail deliverer who delivered these and loaded such males as I received onto
my cart for mailing back to my decoy employment firm.
More checks for my decoy work had come in by now, and my scumlord was more
off my back than ever before. Often I would take my piranha out for a walk with
me, hanging his plastic five gallon joint compound bucket from my stolen
shopping cart and feeding him pieces of chicken skeletons from garbage bags as
we walked. Thrived on all kinds of garbage. Fish, chicken, rotten pork, anything
at all. Very happy as we rolled along doing our work, although one thing
continued. Bothering me was the many cameras popping up.
Everywhere these cameras. More all along the expressway staring down at the
cars. More at the corners and all major intersections. More in the hallways of
the building where I lived. Who was putting up these cameras, I wondered? Where
were they putting all the pictures taken of me and many cars? These whys gave me
no intermission. So many cameras, so many pieces of decoy mail. More of both
coming in the male each day. Was there a connection between the two? And where
did I fit in? Confusion reigned. My consciousness was becoming programmed, I
Toward evening one day I returned to my apartment, passing this amigo joker
intendant with hedge shears who grinned at me but said nothing. Laughable! More
cameras were now in the elevator and halls I noticed. Let self into apartment
and turned on tv. This time saw my apartment on all channels. Now I found out
why. Cameras had been put on my walls, high up, near the ceiling. Too much
joking! I was about to explode when the phone rang. Suddenly I noticed it was
dark outside. How had day turned to night so quickly? Suddenly I noticed that my
phone rang. As I was about to explode it was dark outside. Far too rapid for my
liking. How come?
Because somebody had obviously hung up. Listening to the dialtone was ready.
To put back down the receiver. But then I heard a friendly robot voice say.
Hello, everything normal. Do not put down the receiver, Decoy Jack Kennedy.
Speak as though nothing were amiss. I am Mr. Nixon, a Monitor with Assured
Systems of America, Inc. We are calling to make a progress check on your
activities. How is everything going? Normal we hope. Have you received your
Decoy checks in good order?
"Yes, perhaps," my tongue informed this Monitor voice on my phone,
but wasn't really. Because still heard my dialtone from the receiver to my ear
and I know a dialtone when I hear a dialtone. Monitor voice was coming from
someplace behind me, near the back of my head. I told my Monitor this that there
was something wrong with my phone, perhaps. To call back, yes?
No, there is nothing amiss with your telephone system, Decoy Jack Kennedy, my
Monitor's tongue spoke to my tongue, all perfectly friendly. It is just
atmospheric disturbance, that is all. We sometimes phone from long distances. Do
not worry about this, but do not put down the phone. It is nothing at all. Many
packages and envelopes have been coming to you from many places, is this not
"True, perhaps, yes," I answered this caller's tongue, still
hearing dialtone in my ear.
We know this, of course, Decoy Jack Kennedy, this tongue continued speaking
from someplace behind my head, and we are very pleased with your activities. You
have been making great progress in your Decoy activities and we are certain that
you will continue to improve further as time passes passes. Keep up the good
work because you may soon be rewarded beyond your wildest imaginings.
Turning to look where I saw. Sudden something. Gleamy outside my window.
Where night had come too sudden. With dialtone ear I walked over. To this window
of my apartment and looked through my blind chinks into the night and saw.
Something floating. Like a man floating in the night outside my window. Joking!
Don't worry about what you just saw either, Decoy Jack Kennedy, my tongue
Monitor's voice came in my head, and at same time man who floated outside window
moved lips to tongue identical words. This is nothing to concern yourself with.
You are just imagining things that are not real. Like the cameras in your
apartment, for example. They are not really there. Forget about them. Under no
circumstances ever touch them. Even if they were there they would be there for
your protection. Everything is okay. Just forget everything heard and seen. Be
Now just dialtone in my ear and no more man floating outside my darkness.
Very friendly, though so will not touch these jokers on my walls and ceiling,
also need the money to pay my rent. Still, so many packages, so many envelopes,
all need to be maled. But too dark now. All over the floor, I stick labels on
them all night long and mail back in the morning. Feed my piranha friend many
Quarter Pounders and then drink much Taster's Choice so I can fall.
A sleep that night I dream that somebody is ringing my doorbell but there is
nobody ever there. Bells bells bells. All ringing. Then the light is on and a
woman is walking to my door carrying a five gallon plastic joint compound
bucket. Don't worry. I just used your bathroom, that is all. You are just
dreaming. Nothing wrong. I have a key and will lock your door. Go back to sleep.
I hear the door close and the deadbolt snap and then I am asleep again as
Morning. A normal repetition of many other mornings. Today's calendar
changes. My calendar tells me blue phlox is this month's flower and yellow
lady's slipper will be next month's. For which I can hardly wait. Stand on tiles
mixing the waters above with waters below then look in on my scaly friend of
Amazonian rainforest. But shock. Joking! Water is gone from bathtub and plastic
five gallon joint compound bucket is missing from underneath the sink. My
friendly piranha is gone also. Look but cannot find where it has swam. So I take
my first bath in many weeks. Has swam out window, perhaps. But hardly normal.
Outside more cameras to keep me company as I wheel my shopping cart through
many streets on another normal day of garbage. Collection. I find a baby's
nipple and put it in my mouth since I no longer have my scaly friend. Some
temperatures are important. I find many chicken skeletons among the bottles but
now only keep the bottles since I have no more fish to walk. Redeeming bottles
in the supermarket lot. Sucking. I return to my building as male deliverer
comes. With much mail, more than I have ever seen before. More male and cameras
everywhere now that my toothy fish friend has gone. Is there a connection I have
missed? But no time for cogitation. There is decoy mail to be returned and I
must make many trips in my cart to return it all. Night has fallen suddenly more
and more too, and I have often been caught between light and darkness with
nothing to show. Except surprise on my face.
These pass. The days sometimes short and long. Blue phlox has become
hyacinth, lady's slipper now California poppy. Until my calendar cannot keep up
with these changes in temperature. Night stops and then it is day and sometimes
the opposite too. With these changes everything gets mixed up in the wash.
Without fresh weather news I am helpless. Pileups everywhere. Beyond
description. Normalcy out the window with the garbage trucks. Mercury freezes.
My decoy packages and envelopes long and short have become an avalanche. My
deliverer brings more and more each day but I cannot mail them where the night
against my window. Fewer decoy checks too so I cannot even pay for these malings
back to my company. Sometimes I hear sounds from inside the envelopes that I do
not believe can be made, but are. I am thinking I should give it up perhaps and
take an Amazon vacation, for fish sometimes desert a sinking ship, it is told.
Again one night I am washing myself on tv through cameras on my wall and
making delicious Taster's Choice when my phone. Rings I answer when. It is
another Monitor from my company calling. Me up.
Hello, Decoy Jack Kennedy, this caller announces with extreme friendliness,
as usual with such phones. My name is Mr. Chungmawamam, a Monitor with Assured
Systems of America. How are you this morning, Decoy Jack Kennedy?
"It is now night," I tell my Monitor, though it is manners to
correct a caller I have heard, perhaps. Also this new caller brings a dialtone
to my ear when his voice comes from somewhere behind my head. Though I know to
keep holding the receiver by now against right lobe.
Where you are, yes, my Monitor's tongue. But I am calling long distance and
here it is morning. No more minced words. Permit us to get down to business. It
is understood where I am that you have a problem. Is this inarguable?
"Yes, strict!" I answer. "I am getting over three hundred
packages and envelopes a week for the last two months. I have received only one
hundred dollars in payment. Night falls too suddenly and my post office is
oftener closed. I have checked this many times. I would like to stop being a
Decoy with your Program. It is too hard. Too tricky." Again I saw a man
floating outside my window but this was also normal by now as holding a dialtone
against my lobe.
Thank you for sharing this with me, Decoy Jack Kennedy, my caller tongued
with unchanged friendliness to my voice. But you cannot quit. You are a Decoy
for life. All very normal so please don't concern. Once in, you cannot leave as
a piranha swims out a window. This would be ridiculous, we are certain. But I
told my Monitor that I've had enough. I must remain firm or one day boil to
steam. No more Decoy mail, perhaps. I am also throwing out these cameras
infesting my walls and ceilings. Maybe I will male these together.
Still very friendly my Monitor answered normally. But frightened. You cannot
leave this Program once you enroll, he tongued. If you do not freak out you may
be rewarded with a promotion. On the other hand, if you do not make every
reasonable effort to mail back your Decoy envelopes and packages, you will
immediately be demoted to Lure status. But one way or the other you are
permanently enrolled in our Program.
As I said, all normal. "What is a Lure?" I asked my voice. Who told
me that to see for myself what a Lure I should wash the ten o'clock news on tv.
Yes, your tv shows you only, all normal, my Monitor tongued me back even before
I tongued his voice, but at ten o'clock you will see beyond your walls again.
Now floating man was gone from window and I had my dialtone for a voice. My
caller had hung up in his normal way, I knew.
Strict, as my Monitor said, my tv brought news at ten o'clock, promising the
shocking story of a bizarre act of senseless violence, a crazed human bomb who
went spontaneously insane. Washing tv and drinking Taster's Choice with my
delicious Yodel snack I washed a black man who looked identical to me open a
coat on top of a bridge and show many sticks of dynamite. Gives the finger and
pulls the pin of a grenade. Blows himself to smithereens. Then screen only
showed me again drinking Taster's Choice over the kitchen sink. No more news.
Then I remembered seeing this man run from the post office one day of mailing.
Same man. Now I knew what a Lure was. I would stay a Decoy!
Sleepy from my Taster's Choice drinks I fell back into bread among many flies
of somnolence, all red now. Again I dreamed again of somebody dreamed of ringing
my bell crazily ringing for hours it seemed. Then the lights were on and I saw a
woman floating beneath my wall cameras carrying a five gallon plastic joint
compound bucket and then I was looking in the bucket and inside was my head.
Don't worry. You are only having a dream. Everything normal as can be. I am just
going to use your bathroom. It will be alright, you will see. I watched her
float through my window and out into the darkness. Where another human floated.
Soon there was again a normal repetition of morning and I shook the flies
from my bread and rose from a leavening sleep. Today the date on my calendar was
nowhere in doubt. It showed every day of this month of blue columbine as
11-22-63. In the place where waters mix above the tiles I went to the mirror on
my chest and felt the one something which not normal on this morning of sane
repetition. This was a painful scar on the back of my head, at the place where
the voices on the phone had always normally tongued my voice. For now I heard a
ringing from where there was no phone and the voice was tonguing me as before.
Hello, Decoy Jack Kennedy, this caller said. I am Mr. Castro, a Monitor with
Assured Systems of America. Good evening! Don't be alarmed or concerned. Your
scars are temporary. You are awake but you no longer need a phone. There are no
more cameras either. I went from the tiles and looked at walls and ceiling. All
cameras were gone. Today is a special day, my Monitor went on. Do not worry.
Instead rejoice. We are very pleased with your work. Strict! Higher-ups also
watching, though can't go into details now. The important thing. You will be
upgraded to Monitor status. As of today you will control Decoys of your own. No
more packages to mail. No more money to spend. No joke!
"Painful scarring," tongued I to the dialtone inside my voice.
Gingerly rubbing fingers along shaved area on sore neck. "Hurtful. What has
been done? Programming, perhaps?"
Everything normal, my Monitor assured me. Normal and necessary. You have
received a normal piranha implant. This is necessary to upgrade you to Monitor
status. This is only your scaly friend which recorded useful information during
your many walks together. Have added our own information to your fish head.
Opened certain files. Soon inflammation will subside. Strict. Not joking.
Now it is time to activate your Monitor upgrade status. Simply walk out your
door and into the street. Your friend piranha will know what to do next. Walk
out of your building now, Decoy Jack Kennedy. Walk out and perhaps meet your
The elevator and pressed lobby. Swung open the door past mailboxes and into
the courtyard of many cameras. Then glint of sunlight on something from the
bushes and sight of hedge shears lying on the dirt. When I saw the long black
muzzle I knew my future was history. Tough to believe, but honest. No gimmicks,
no surprises. After I heard the shot. Perhaps.