Did I ever tell you my mother named me after a character from Stephen King’s “Pet Sematary”? The one who buries his son in cursed ground to bring him back from the dead? I don’t see my mother anymore, but can always feel her watching me. Even when I sleep.
Today I moved into my new home in Dragon Valley. New town, new life – or at least that’s what’s they say. I would have loved to use this as an opportunity to turn my back on a life of crime, but the urge was too strong. I didn’t even get through the front door before I was thinking about my next gig. As if on cue, the paperboy rocked up on my front doorstep. We engaged in a quick conversation about shooting stars before the little brat threw a water bomb at me. I didn’t really mind. The kid’s got spunk, I like that. He left and I checked the paper.
A local crime syndicate was advertising a position vacant for a decoy. How they can get away with advertising in such a public way I have no idea – the corruption must be rife in this place. I took the gig. $17 an hour but beggars can’t be choosers – I don’t even have furniture. I chatted on the phone with my new boss, Robin, about work, money, diamonds and roses. We seem to be getting along quite well. Over the next few hours I called him, oh, four more times? Not sure if that’s normal here but I’m a “do whatever I feel like” kinda guy.
I ventured inside for the first time, heading straight for the loo. I paced backwards and forwards in the bathroom before calling Robin again. We have a half hour chat about boxing but no amount of talking is going to get me promoted – not at this stage. I’ll have to start from the bottom here, and I really should focus on getting fitter so I don’t get stuck doing the little jobs for too long. I jumped in a cab to the gym. I’m not even thinking about getting a car yet.
There was a kid at the door with purple hair (I forget her name) complaining about being hungry. I’m not sure what she expected me to do about this so I ignored her and headed for the treadmill. I’m feeling kinda rusty, and luckily no-one was in the room when I fell flat on my face – the first time. Doreen Delaney got the chance to witness my 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th faceplants as she sprinted along beside me, her age belying her athleticism. That woman can run.
I was surprised to feel myself getting fitter as I ran. The clumsiness is something I definitely need to work on though – I fell over 4 more times before I made my way to have a shower. Two hour workout. Not bad. But boy, was I ripe – If I didn’t know better I’d swear there was a trail of green stench wafting behind me. I soaped myself up, thinking about how hungry I was. I hadn’t eaten all day.
I hailed a cab for home, hungry and tired – when I remembered I didn’t have a bed. In classic “Louis-the-Pennypincher” style, I got a cheap one. It didn’t come in grey, so green will have to do. I’m actually not too happy about that. I might have to upgrade once the money starts coming in.
I heated myself up a can of soup and ate it sitting on the toilet. It was – surprisingly – quite tasty. I used the bathroom sink to wash my plate, stripped down to my singlet and undies, and climbed into bed.
I dreamt about diamonds and disco balls.