And now the senses were gone

The arab is here.

Where here?

Upper East side, nothing lavish.

How do you know?

I did a quick search.

And the implications will reach on out into the evermore, forever more.

We should  have concentrated more on the Lake, it's all a big muddly kind of chaotic brain scribble.

The Lake was over priced.

It also came down to the arab, I did my own due dilligence.

You did?

Yeah.. Panama and all that shit. Toxic.

Yeah.. Kriptonite.

Unless you want being held captive in a hotel and tortured.

Not really.

I was going to say I still have the taste of Five Guy's in my mouth, but it doesn't translate well.

No it doesn't. Nothing you say comes over well. I never knew anyone so impolitically correct.

You have no filter.

I drank some urine accidentally, I wonder what the sanskrit scripts would have to say about that? It was for a sample, but I drank some and tipped the rest away.

I would have done the same.

The black haired woman, who I had totally forgotton about, well she gathered up my computer equipment and took it all away, apparently I had not kept my side of the agreement, whatever that was, I can't remember. I was confused so I didn't argue. Anyhow I had another computer in the back, so now I have more space.

Did you see the grey man?

My old friend from the 70's gave me a roll of money, he told me to get him a bottle of single malt to give to the old man, but I bought a gin and tonic instead and decided not to go back.

Yeah, that would be best thing to do in the circumstances.

Let's get back, it's getting cold. I don't like my hair when it get's cold, it starts to make me look like my father.

I like your father.

Shall we get waffles?

There are no waffles left in the entire city.

Fuck it. Let's get a Martini.

What about the Arab?

I don't like that arab. The DNA doesn't sit right with me, the watermark is just not there. The isolation, I mean like your mother is either alive - or she is just dead. There is nothing in the middle.

Yes there is. In the middle is when you have no access to your memory banks, when your brain gets tired, when it shuts down, shuts out all the bad stuff. Your brain deletes it's hard drive. That is what is in the middle.

But look at you, you are immaculate, no signs of a struggle. 

Ahh there may be neatness and no signs of force or injury, but I am dead.

No, no. There's still signs of life in you. 

Now together on the desolate, dimly lit streets of New York City, her heart raced with trepidation as she pondered this mysterious Frenchman. How did he simply just find her? In the middle of nowhere? The coincidences were mounting by the minute. How could she agree to this madness? Why was he in Paris that night? Why did he say he thought she was German? Absolutely nothing added up, yet here she was. Holding his hand as he led her through the dark cold streets.

 He stopped abruptly and turned to face her. His piercing gaze bore into her soul, sending shivers down her spine as she realized he was not just a mere stranger but someone connected to the dangerous underworld. His suave demeanor and subtle charm masked a sinister agenda, one that threatened to engulf her in a web of deception and danger. As their paths had crossed in the dead of night, she found herself drawn into a dark and twisted game, where trust was a luxury she could not afford. The Frenchman's association with DZMF, an infamous Arabic criminal syndicate known for their ruthless tactics and merciless approach to achieving their goals, cast a shadow of fear over her every move. In this heart-pounding moment of suspense and uncertainty, she knew that escaping unscathed from this encounter would be nothing short of a miracle. She was in the middle of something from which there was no escape.

As he stared deeply into her eyes, she felt a rush of conflicting emotions wash over her. The glistening pale grey eyes peered into her soul, leaving her both fascinated and frightened by the intensity of their gaze. The tension between them crackled in the air, creating a surreal atmosphere that seemed to distort reality itself. Despite the chaos within her, she couldn't deny the pull she felt towards this enigmatic stranger. It was as if they were both falling into depths unknown, losing themselves in each other's presence. Everything around them faded into oblivion, leaving no sense in anything except for the magnetic force drawing them together. In that moment, she knew that she was standing on the precipice of something extraordinary and terrifying all at once. 

 

This story, it's a type of story but then it's no story at all. Like all of my stories hey? 

You know what I'm like. All disconnected and faceblind, I don't recognise anyone unless I am familiar with what they are wearing, I don't recognise faces, I am face blind. Let me look at your coat.

No. Look at the clock.

I'm another victim of insomnia! Come in, sit down there, by the fire.

Your mouth is opening and closing like a fish, can't you speak?

Tell that woman to get out of here! Why are you yawning?

Shall I go?

You know she can't go out...

You need some faith, faith to get through this dark world safely and happily.

Your mind is always in a hurry, always trembling.

The street lights didn't come on?

You are so romantic, you have a love of colour, of beauty. But you are discontent in this world of dust and stones.

I could never live that close to NYU.

Being around college kids triggers my fear of lost youth and the passage of time.

Yes, like the train is almost at the end of the journey. You can feel the speed reducing, I think life is the same, a train pulling into the final station of your trip. But you aren't sure when you will need to stand up and disembark. 

Not yet, not quite yet.

Then look what she did.

She was in a kind of low loading, longish wheelchair type thing. She already looked dead to me, but she was groaning and moving around. Her skin was withered and grey, and then she fell out of the chair and onto the pavement. I saw her hands, they reminded me of a chickens feet.

Did you call the ambuance?

I did, I told them I was next to the church. Then the ambulance medic said it was too late, her lips were grey. So I walked  away and left her.

I met with Andy for lunch, we ordered food but the waiter said the restaurant was flooded so we would have to follow him. We walked through some badly lit tunnels. 

As we sat down, a man walked in with a rifle and grabbed Andy and placed the barrel of the rifle in his mouth. He threatened to shoot him. I don't know why. I was concerned about Andy's teeth for some reason, he has perfect teeth.

 Then he grabbed me and put the gun against my head and threatened to kill me but I wasn't afraid, I told him to fucking get it over with. I was waiting for the blast, the sound of the shot but it never came. He threw me against the table, stared at me in some kind of disbelief and left. The man told me to be very careful as he was headed towards the door, he would do it another day. I told him okay, see you later.

We ordered our lunch but I don't think it was very good. I didnt eat all mne, but Andy finished everything on the table.

Yes, like me he is a glutton. I don't waste food. You never know what may happen, you may be hungry one day. You were never hungry.

Fuck you! I had to steal food to feed my sister! I gave her dry porridge oats, Oxo cubes and toothpaste on bread! I could withstand the hunger pains, but she was too young to understand and would cry!

I'm sorry, I forget, you are such a tender woman I can hardly imagine that.

Yes..The food.. God. I survive on very little. It's like a kind of self punishment, self loathing, reminding myself of how things were. Like some kind of Charles Dickens novel. Very Kafkaesque.

It was only when I left the restaurant, I discovered the gunman or the waiter had stolen my passport. But screw it, there was only a few months left on it anyow.

I think he wanted us to sleep there, but the beds were so close together and I wasn't comfortable with that.

Me neither, and the bedding was cheap, I hate cheap bed linen.

You know, I told my girlfriend I'm broke, but I live in a 20m apartment and my family own a Gulfstream.

I know, I'm never sure what to do in those situations. Like walking around in a Rolex and a Hermes belt and accusing other people of being materialistic.

I thought the Rolex was in the wall.

It was, but I like to feel it, not to look at it, but to feel it.

The sun is coming out. I am thinking we should look for a Margarita.

Or six.

Do you think you should go easy on the alcohol?

I do. It's called daytime.

I love you.

I love daydreaming, but it's never like... Nice, you know? It's always like a nightmare. What do you call that?

Life.

Yes you're correct. It's cold, like a fridge in here, and I don't think we should be in here, there's no one here, we may get shot, this is not a safe place.

It's a church.

Then we definately aren't safe.

I noticed something about you though, it bothers me... You English keep your eggs in the fridge.

The French don't?

No, never. Why do you do that?

So they don't hatch.

As pure as New York snow

 

I seen that guy... he's all the time going to Coney Island!

I will feel better when I'm back into the proximity of familiar, you know that all encompassing feeling of familiarity? It's comfortable. I'm comfortable in there, in that little zone.

No, I don't recognise the sensation, I never actually had a comfort zone.

How long did it take Corey to tell you he loved you?

I don't know, I was drunk.

Fuck.

Did you hear about the guy that shot the sherriff in Atlanta? Well they caught him. You know how?

No.

After he shot him, he ran to Graceland where Micheal Jackson lives, and he shot MJ in the leg. That's why MJ walks around in pyjamas all the time, because his leg hurts and he can't get dressed.

Michael Jackson died already.

I know, he was shot.

Fucks sake. 

You are charming.

If you still have charm, you have been underutilised. I have a small dark number shaped like a rocket. You should walk away like you were never here.

Vraiment?

Vraiment.

Did you ever fuck a fat girl?

Yeah, she was so fat I couldn't put my arms around her.

So you dumped her?

Not because she was fat, but because her pussy stank like a rabbit hutch.

Vraiment?

Vraiment.

There was a time we had functional alignment.

The machines entered the language, but my love, entered us.

Do you even know what you're doing? Or where you're going?

I thought you were putting it on.. but no, you're really like this?

Please don't expect me to always be good and kind and loving.

There are times when I will be 

cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.

I wanted to be where

nobody I knew

could ever

come.

That's why I brought you.

And still you make no sense. You bipolar or something?

No, just being myself. If it says turn left, I turn right.

I noticed. You know where we are?

No idea.

Alors!

Yes, holy fuck, whatever.

Can you smell L'herbe?

Yes! That sounds like a plan!

Oui... Let's go buy some..

But you're a cop.

And you know this how?

I just know you are not what you say.. HSI perhaps?

We have one already in the family, but I know what he looks like..

L'herbe. I swear the whole of NYC is baked. And well I can definately 

understand why.

But no one here knows me.. Or you.

Let's go then.

In the bustling, legal high stinking streets of New York City, the 

mysterious investigation into this unknown situation unfolded further. As 

they followed the scent, in an attempt to mingle with the masses, they 

stumbled upon a man with a message, his eyes wild with fear and 

desperation. With quick wit and sharp intellect, they attempted to - and 

succeeded to piece together the puzzle of his words, uncovering a web 

of deceit and danger lurking in the shadows of the city that never sleeps.

Agent Orange, please take me with you.