A Village—NIGHT
When I leave the party, I find myself back in that poor village in the mountains in the rain. My face is bleeding from the weasel bite and I have just staggered out unto the boardwalk outside of the snack bar. The torrent gushes from the gutters, and I survey the flooded streets of the town.
Iris in a black cowboy hat comes out of the dark. Smiles and twists her hair in her mouth. “Do you know a bathroom I could use?”
I laugh, “As submerged as we all are, you could probably relieve yourself anywhere.”
The Boss and some others emerge from somewhere and frown at me. They do not approve of this flirting. Iris frowns back and says,
“I’d like some privacy.”
“Well, there’s an outhouse out back.”
The girl smiles again and approaches, reaching for coyly reaching for my arm. “I’d really like it if you could walk be back there and show it to me personally, Frank.”
The Boss’s on-looking frown intensifies, as it looks like I might get laid, she mutters quietly, “Frank has no praise for what I am trying to do.”
Iris looks to me questioningly, “No ‘praise?’ What a funny word to use about you.”
“The most perfect word for her to use.” I say as Iris smiles and hugs up against me, “‘Praise’ is a portmanteau—two words smashed together. In this case ‘Praise’ equals ‘Properly’ plus ‘Raised,’ which I guess I am not.”
Suddenly, as I smile back at her and envision the impending tryst—something swings out of the dark and clocks me in the head.
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