Circle I.8: In memoriam
It was November, a frost bit the houses, streets were obscured by the mist and dark shadow of remorse.
Last day, he woke up alone.
Monika made him a nice cup of coffee. She had arranged clean white underwear, shirt and clothes for him. Then, she kissed his cheeks, his eyes and behind the ears. He didn't catch her eye, but it seemed like he has heard a faint cry. Women are strange.
He mutely jumped out of bed and started dressing. Nice and neat clothes.
- It suits you perfectly. - she said. - I think, he'd also like to see you wearing it.
- Yes, I'm sure he'd like it. - Rastoder clarified cynically.
Out there, icy rain showered the haunted streets. Luckily, he had an umbrella. Her negligee was hanging loose around her bold breasts. She was so damned sexy.
- Come back, asap. - she said.
- ...or, please call me. At least... - she tried again.
When he arrived home, Rastoder was depressed, cold and empty.
Obviously, Vera was having a party. It was exactly a full house. One locky guy in undershirt, one foureyed nerd, one redhead broad with a great ass, one unsightly brunette. Vera was a jolly joker.
- Tomcat's back home. Where've you been, Romeo? - she shouted.
- Seems that I've not been missed so much. - Rastoder cryed.
- You're wrong, Romeo. I'm all fucked up. Sinse yesterday, we're out of smoke. - Vera said.
- So, I have to smoke you out?
- Don't tire. I've borrowed some from in-kind neighborhood.
- Great! Well, then, hi, everybody. - Rastoder weaved.
- Yo, man! Errr... We drank that Chivas of your's. Don't get mad. Like... We liked it. - that was locky one.
- Get me some booze, kid. Run, run! - Rastoder gave him an one-thousand bill.
- Wow! You're fuckin Jack! I'm Rale. - Locky gave him a pot, for an exchange.
- How nice... Learn, learn and learn again. Or spread the revolution! It's forbidden to hang around! - Rastoder has sauced them.