Visitors

[poliphilo]

 I dreamed the New Jersey gangsters had come looking for a guy who had ratted them out and stolen their money. I was settled in my mind that I wasn't going to be anything but polite or give them any sign that I was afraid of them. I showed them the garden and sat and talked with those who were willing. One or two of them were mean little shits but the one in the red suit who stank of sweat was simply tired of the whole business. "Why." he asked, "Are we pursuing the thief when we could be generating new income." After I'd seen them off the premises a child followed me back to the house to reclaim a used chequebook with nothing left in it but the stubs...