I see no pretense in David except an
opulently intense desire to control his
image.
These aren’t teardrops. It’s just
water from the fountain here.
Awaken to an aspirin sunlight. All this
fooling around at one-four-four. Men in
gas masks shouting ‘One-Four-Four,
One-Four-Four,’ and a jerk to signify
‘Take him away!’
At four minutes to two I have a
phone interview in an hour. Or an
hour and four minutes.
Let’s make it five.
