Feeling a little stumbly today. I have that ache in my neck like I slept in the oddest position. I'll be able to sleep well from now on. German goodbye and French kiss for the asking; do I want it? Of course I don't know if I can have it but I think I could.
Had a meeting today with John. His thermals were peeking out from his thrift shop sweater. Dripping honey between weird little belches, he convinced us that his dream would make us all rich. In between, he let it be known that he was losing his grip on the whole project. The various mandarins of the Shanghai Medical community smelled profits and were not about to let a two-bit transplant surgeon have it all to himself. Yet they still left him to plan it all.
His chosen consultant is a queer fellow with poor taste. Pauper shoes and old coats, he drops platitudes like cheap beers. "Thanks, mate! Don't blow the budget on the $3 worth of drinks!" I might just be a prick but I am definitely a hateful prick. Am I really to follow these fools into a business selling dreams to the desperate? I have mud on my hands and I haven't even been paid.
Why is student in a cheap suit the best dressed man in the room? Who are these people and why am I here? Bitch and moan as the cockroach scurries past. The bathroom shines as they do a little jig. Oh yes, we do need a place to stay. Any ideas of where?
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1 comment:
I hear that selling your soul makes for good writing. We can discuss if you stop by in January.
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