Vanity. Ares

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
of the specific moment when Faustun had begun
to stage scenes I felt insinuated a friendship.
Whilst talking to Faustun in the yard that day,
we spoke about the Arab inmates and Jewish
inmates having competing sect’s within the
prison. "Everyone is in some sort of gang," I
said. “The Jew’s have all the money, but are
wimps. The Arab’s think with their balls, so they
are strong,” said Faustun, whom by that time I
already secretly disliked, mostly because his hair
reminded me of Gerard and in my eyes he had
betrayed me and set off this domino effect,
which had me sitting in the prison yard in the
cold learning of Arabs and Jews. Whilst mostly
just hearing Faustun, as opposed to listening, I
zoned out and wondered why Gerard could not
just have accepted me giving Martinq a going
over, thus initiating my abrupt return to the
place where only trouble resides for me,
London. I zoned back in because I remember a
rain drop hitting my bottom lip, to then hear
Faustian say: “But, yeah you see that officer,” he
said, pointing at the bearded officer that was
escorting me with Coctau. “Well, I heard from
Pusha, that black guy, you know the one with
the cain rolls?” I think I said, “Sure, why not.”
“That guy told me that the guard right there is
supposedly got a nice little earner going with the
Jew’s and the Arab’s on the drug tip. I even
think he’s looking to expand to the NF white
guys.” announced Faustun, speaking in a way I
always thought from the moment we met, was
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