I Woke Next to the Corpse by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Page 90
I couldn’t see any bars, patsys, or thugs. The air was clear.
Margie must have taken me to heaven. There were no people around to mess it up.
It was as if I had opened a chest and travelled back to another time. It was like a scrapbook, only better. Youse mugs ain’t got no appreciation for art which was ahead of its time; that a tautology.
I Woke Next to the Corpse