Saturday, March 20, 2010



"Cunt." Thorpe whispers and she's gone.

Margaret May wakes up skinny and tired two blocks away and hears Thorpe whisper from the diner "And you will be sure and visit F106."

"Yes. Anything for you."

"Fat cunt, I'll be round to fuck you again."

"Anything for you." She looks in the mirror and twists her nipples in anticipation. "Anything for you."

The diner empties.



Holy shit. Am I awake?

"But enough about me. Do you garden much?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're Tarek, Al Jazeera, right?"

Tarek had known, had experienced American invasions into his home. But, this time, this time it was just one man. He wasn't even in uniform.

"Are you some sort of Secret Service? FBI? CIA?"

"I'm not even American, Tarek."

"What are you?" Tarek began tapping the emergency band on his cell phone.

"An angel." The man's eyes glittered as the sun rested below the window behind Tarek.

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