Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Scroll (Part nine of nine)

One day in 1996 in Glasgow I wrote on the back of a Michelob Beer poster. I decided to fill it up from top to bottom with spontanaeous writing.

She was an outlaw. He was just out. Five years in the slammer. He turns up on her doorstep. Rings the bell the door opens. Hey honey, suprised to see me? They let me out two months early. -You should not have come around here. Do you wanna know why? I'll tell you. I've gone straight now. I whittle bows and arrows with my machete for the kids on the reservation. The kids go out to the woods and hunt hogs. I gets my share. I'm an independant woman and I don't need anymore of your shit. You get me? So just go on git yourself out of here. We aint got nothing to say. -Listen wait honey, I don't understand any of this and you've said your piece so at least let me say mine. -Okay shoot, but dont expect nuthin'. -I been busy in jail honey they get you doing all sorts of things. See here in my sack let me just grab hold. there's a couple. Here honey see? See? -All I see is two wooden bowls. What in the hell is that supposed to mean? After all the shit you've put me through and you show me bowls!! -No honey you don't understand I made them. They're not bowls, they're scalps honey, little wooden scalps. I made 'em honey with my own hands. -(They kiss she drags him inside and they shag like rabbits then a gun is shot. He is dragged down to the cellar) -I never could resist your sense of humour.

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