David and I sang Matt Happy Birthday over the phone. Libran, 1st of the month. He called just as he was boarding a plane and said he was touched, he said it made him cry. But, he was coming down from Tropical Fruits. Good drug's, I said.
He's off to San Francisco for a couple of weeks. Shane is staying in Byron until Sunday.
Nicholas arrived right on 9pm, smiling at the door, handing me something straight away, as soon as I opened the door, hand to hand, like secret squirrel. He asked if I wanted to come down home. I was stuffed and just wanted to retire to bed. He said he was tired too, mouthed stoned, smile beautifully and rode off into the night.
David read me a card that one of his students sent him. David wrote her at a crisis point in her life, just out of the blue. The small miracle allowed her to get through two unplanned pregnancies, in a row and her husband being poofter bash and rape, and seriously beaten. She'll be forever grateful to have found such a beautiful soul in David, he will never know how much it meant to her. Blah, blah, an A4 sided page of sentiment, seemingly jammed onto one greeting card.
"How did she get all of that onto there," I asked, as soon as David had stopped reading.
Not only had she typed the entire speech out in miniature and pasted into the inside cover of the card, complete with hand-monogrammed initials, on the other side were ten cut out circles, each with a cliche type in, pasted to the other side. It sent a shiver up my spine.
"She's a bunny boiler," I said. "That is the handy work of a blackmailer or a serial killer."
David was horrified.
I got "Strength" in the Gods & Angels cards. Be myself, it said. That is the ultimate strength, apparently.
How hard can that be?
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