Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Victoria Williams: 0080

Ladies and Gentlemen, there has been a small and minor rupture between past and present. The key to both of them has disappeared this morning, leaving only pineapple leaves on my floor and one small piece of blue card pasted to my mirror (angry handwriting):

“I am sorry if my nudity offends you.
Farewell.”

Alas alas, I was insensitive to a stranger who appeared at my door. I laughed at his dancing, I demanded to know who’d hired him, and I refused to tip. And now he’s probably out there alone, estranged from his clothing, running carelessly through dangerous plant life – basically living the dream we’d discussed so intently... and me still here, when am I going to wake up from all this?