|The Story||The Authors|
Matthew turned to look at Crink with rheumy eyes. He was serious. Crink
actually seemed to believe in this. Hickey looked back at the photo of the
emasculated Skoptzy and back at Crink, he searched deeply in the other man's
face for even a glimmer of a smile. Nothing. Serious as a heart attack. Matthew
began to weep. Big salty tears spilled forth from the corners of his eyes like
scoops ofice cream from a toddler's cone. His life had come to this. He wept.
Crink for his part was not unnerved. He'd expected as much. Years of acting as Hickey's dark shadow had prepared him for a reaction like this. He knew that deep in the deepest most secret and child-like scabby recesses of Matthew's heart he still held out an unwhispered hope of returning to genital normalness. Crink was being hard on him, but it had to be this way. "Well, well there little man, best to be doing a sleep on it. Time's an essence we got plenty for now. And plenty work ahead too. Your destiny is there (indicating the book) if you want it. Or my pretty, pathetic blob or you can take Door #2 and lay around here getting so drunk and fat that your belly will droop and cover a multitude of sins. Your choice. And that's no choice at all" Jeremy placed the open book gently on the sticky coffee table in front of the sobbing form and quietly left.