225 pounds
we were in bed and
she started to fight:
“you son of a bitch! you just wait a minute,
I’ll get you!”
I began laughing:
“what’s the matter? what’s the matter?”
“you son of a bitch!” she screamed.
I held her hands as she squirmed.
she was a couple of decades younger than I
a health food freak.
she was very strong.
“you son of a bitch! I’ll get you!”
she screamed.
I rolled on top of her with my 225 pounds and
just layed it there on her.
“uugg, oooo, my God, that’s not fair, oooo, my
God!”
I rolled off and walked into the other room and
sat on the couch.
“I’ll get you, bastard,” she said, “you just
wait!”
“just don’t bite it off,” I said, “or you’ll make
a half dozen women very unhappy.”
she climbed up on the headboard of my bed
(it did have a flat though narrow surface)
and sat perched there watching the news on tv.
the tv faced the bedroom and it illuminated
her as she sat up there on the
headboard.
“I thought you were sane,” I said, “but you’re
just as crazy as the rest of them.”
“be quiet,” she said, “I want to watch the
news!”
“look,” I said, “I’ll...”
“SHUSH!” she said.
and there she was up on the headboard of my bed
really watching the news. I accepted her that
way.
Altre opere di Charles Bukowski...
