Vanity. Ares

In the beginning it was all meat and milk,
but the manna stopped falling from the sky and I
was becoming the third wheel, especially in his
girlfriend’s Martinq’s eye’s— a small an petite
brunette. No, she did not try and mask her disdain
for my presence — she disliked me and did not
mind letting me know. “When will you leave, it’s
been a while you know?” she said, and that was the
second day of my arrival to Marseille. I told her that
I needed time and I did.
I knew a few different confidence tricks that
I used quite well in my time living in Manchester,
but my French was not so good, so these tricks
lacked the necessary confidence in order to
succeed in such matters. I knew Gerard from a
friend of a friend — a man named Carter
introduced us when Gerard was in London, years
before. He is a blues singer and we quickly became
friends, we often gigged together and there was a
feeling of a debt owed as I once lent him six
thousand pounds. A real tidy sum of money that he
needed for reasons I never quite knew, but I liked
Gerard and being that I saw him as a smart guy I
knew that in one way or another I could use him.
That is one thing that I’m not, stingy; as an orphan
I had always the necessity to get used to things
changing and sharing - the upside of moving
around a lot. The downside was of course the
multiple families I had to endure and endure did I
have to.
I remember one family that rarely did much
else but hit each other; the Father hit the Mother,
the Mother hit the Son, the Son hit the Daughter
and the Daughter hit the cat and it was like a
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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