I Woke Next to the Corpse by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Page 14

Hidey Hidey Hidey Ho

(Hidey Hidey Hidey Ho)”

She was tall and rangy and strong looking. Her noodle was held up straight and unsupported, exuding an ambiance of defiance.

Her hair was dirty blonde, straight, and parted on her left side, and she had the hot black eyes of Anglican Sister Ruth in

“Black Narcissus,” or an ancient Indian erotic painting on the palace wall in the hall. She had a good mouth and chin. There was a sulky droop in her lips and the lower lip was full.

When I went for the phone with no idea of who I was going to Ameche, it didn’t matter anyway, because the line was dead.

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Margie then showed her competitive side when she said; “I can out fuck you.”

She was cooking with gas, but it took me a few hours after dropping the phone to catch up to her certainty. When I said;

“I’m going to have to take a break for a while,” Margie replied;

“See, I told you. I can go on forever. You’re the one who can’t.” I figured that she was religious, and had an unusually deep understanding of the Bible.

I’ll never know for sure how she knew I had the money, and was in desperate need of a place to hide, though I have rather strong suspicions. In fact I’m not sure how she knew there was any money involved, though rifling wallets is sort of standard operating procedure on the con. Inducing the final remnants of stupid optimism to run out, I re-checked my wallet to find that the money was still gone.

I Woke Next to the Corpse