42. Tick
Sally-Anne Year: 1983, 10th August, Wednesday, Morning, Summer. When Guy spoke to me again it made me jump. I’d relaxed into the heat of his legs after emptying the whisky bottle and smoking a couple of cigarettes, then at some point I’d brought his hand to my lips. I was so calm the world had just melted away. “Go make us all some coffee Doll.” Guy told me tiredly. When I came back with 3 cups of fresh black coffee I was surprised to see Guy was no longer in the living room. Setting two cups on the coffee table I brought the third over to Bill. The closer I got the more I shook. Then I realised I’d forgotten to ask Bill how he took his coffee which made me shake even more. I was a terrible hostess. ‘Who cares; kill him.’ My primal friend piped up, stopping me in my tracks. Bill scoot
- Writer
