Factotum Page #4

ever since we got back together.

Sh*t.

Let's face the obvious:

I don't need you

and you don't need me.

Yeah. I know.

A week later Jan moved out

and shacked up with some rich guy.

After that I couldn't pay the rent.

- The landlord threw you out?

- Yeah.

Did you get the job?

- No. They didn't want me.

- Why not?

I don't have an address.

Hank, I hate it when he fucks me.

Sure, baby. Take care.

This is for you.

It got too small for him.

See you around, Hank.

You'll manage.

Amazing, how grimly

we hold onto our misery.

The energy we burn fueling our anger.

Amazing, how one moment

we can be snarling like a beast, -

- then a few moments later

forgetting what or why.

Not hours

or days or months or years, -

- but decades,

lifetimes completely used up -

- given over to

the pettiest rancor and hatred.

Finally there is nothing here

for death to take away.

Sit down

and we'll see if anything comes in.

You look a little down in the mouth.

You all right?

I lost a woman.

You'll have others.

And you'll lose them too.

Where do they go?

Try this.

Ain't no women on skid row.

Don't let him see us drinking.

That's the one thing he don't like.

Keep it low.

- Wine gnats.

- Sons of b*tches are hooked.

They know what's good.

They drink to forget their women.

They just drink.

- Oh, sh*t.

- Here he comes!

All right! Get out, you winos!

Get out before I call the cops!

Let's go! Get out of here!

Out! I call the cops, you god damn

degenerates! And don't come back!

What? This isn't a bar!

Sun's up.

Yeah, the sun's up good.

Well, I got to get going.

See you.

So, what do I do with Chinaski's mail?

He's gone. Just give it to me.

Have a nice day.

Dear Mr. Chinaski.

We are returning four stories,

but keeping My Beerdrunk Soul -

"- is Sadder Than All the Dead

Christmas Trees of the World.

We have been watching your work

and are happy to accept this story.

Sincerely,

John Martin, Black Sparrow Press.

If you are going to try,

go all the way.

Otherwise don't even start.

This could mean losing girlfriends,

wives, relatives, jobs.

And maybe your mind.

It could mean

not eating for three or four days.

It could mean

freezing on a park bench.

It could mean jail.

It could mean mockery, isolation.

Isolation is the gift. All the others

are a test of your endurance.

Of how much you really want to do it.

And you'll do it, despite rejection.

And it will be better than

anything else you can imagine.

If you're going to try,

go all the way.

There is no other feeling like that.

You will be alone with the gods.

And the nights will flame with fire.

You will ride life

straight to perfect laughter.

It's the only good fight there is.

subs by kitrinipapia

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