They parked the Cooper in a ditch and got out to check the score.
The house was way back there, illuminated by flashes of lightning and connected to the vampire moon with steel umbilical cords.
Little primitive men danced around in the blanketing night , whispering archaic messages to alcoholic bats.Spiders weaved glossy webs that sprinkled the firmament.
Cockenhimer lived in a huge castle probably built in the twelfth century.A graveyard separated it from the dirt road that screwed up your tires.
The sleuths dragged the corpse of the insurance guy out of the back seat and placed him in the brackish stream flowing in the ditch.As he floated away into Lethe his hand trailed behind him,as if in benediction.
"You can never go home again,"said James."
"Huh?What?"
"The past is a different country;they do things differently there."
"Why in the holy fuck are you quoting Coleridge?"Smedly asked.
"It's not Coleridge,"James Jones told him."Hell, I ain't sure who it is.It just seemed appropriate to quote some verse for the dead man."
"You ain't going soft on me are you,Jim? I need your discompassion in this case.Don't get all biblical and shit.We gotta keep our minds clear for what's ahead."
Snuffffablugh
The man with the dark shade sunglasses that hid your eyes and made you uncomfortable snorted some dried grape Kool aid mixed with cyanide crystals up his nose.A little blood dripped onto the marsh.Cannible ants devoured it hungrily.
"Dagnamit,boy,keep your head clear,"Smedly barked."We don't know what we're walking into.Stop that crap."
JJ had developed an addiction back in the jungles in the 1970s.He'd run some kind of screwy religious cult and melted through the other- sphere when things got out of hand.
"A man gets lonely,"Jim said.
They opened a rusty gate and walked along a path between the ancient headstones.
A green ghost broad hovered menacingly in a cloud of marijuana smoke above a small group of huddled junkies.The table was covered with paraphernalia and shattered hopes.The block of welfare cheese lay untouched near a knife and a bottle of unlabeled beer.Cocaine spread out like the Plains of Abraham.
Some rotting corpse bitch was sweeping the porch.Her straw house walked back and forth on chicken legs,cluck-clucking distractedly.Chicken leg houses didn't discriminate between lodgers,so long as you paid the rent on time and didn't disturb the conversation.
An obese rat fresh from the strip joint bumped into them rudely,the stench of whiskey and cigarettes hung about him like an overcoat snatched off the closet hanger.
Smedly pushed the little vermin into the mud and the guy cursed at them vehemently.
A bullet in the gut shut him up quick.
The gumshoe grabbed the scull whore and inserted himself into her gaping eye socket.The maggots squirmed around and he welcomed the distraction.Park benches were hard to sleep on.The police blew whistles in your ear and pigeons made love to statues without regard to someone with sensibilities.The bird shit caked up on their shoulders and one couldn't read the information on the placard on the bottom.How did statues of dead men go home at night,the subway platform was filled with crabs lugging suitcases.Wives in white aprons waited for the paycheck back in the kitchen, listening to afternoon soap operas on the television.Crabs have such an indifferent attitude to the hub and bub of the city.They only understand the manipulation of the stock exchange and the late night pint in the pub.
Goethe was irrelevant.
He didn't understand the words: He simply raised his arms and the music descends like rain.A crystal snake swallowed its own tail and forgotten art books stacked in the corner of the basement were half remembered forty eight years later.
Smedly raised his hind leg and peed.
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