Payback for not having an air mattress. The atmosphere in the tent was rather brisk, a polite way of saying, “too damn cold.”First things first, I...crawled naked past our saucepan, AKA: a chamber pot. Screw it! I didn’t want to bother cleaning our makeshift toilet; besides, we would later need to melt snow to replace our drinking water. I crawled to the entrance and climbed to my knees. An upset bride once asked a famous advice columnist, “My husband insists on urinating in our backyard. Why. Yet now, in the stark morning light, I realised my worse fear had come true. I'd succumbed. She was so like...I let memories drift back, memories I had cherished and agonized over, memories that had shaped my life. They came back in a rush, as if it was only yesterday, crystal clear.Mourners drifted away, smiling gently in sympathy, shaking our hands, and giving soft words of condolences. Alexis stood at my side, ramrod straight as if holding her body rigid would control her emotions and lessen. Sometimes I think their tiny necks will snap! Margot and Elizabet both decline to do the deed themselves, no doubt fearing rough justice at some future juncture. Apparently they believe I will sacrifice them to authority should the worst befall us. Wise of them, but a highly unlikely occurrence. I fear not authority and am a part of it. Those who are a part of it and know it, need not fear it.Margot and Elizabet are two veteran London City whores of as little conscience as myself, who know well. In short, at night you could stand undetected in their back yard and see perfectly into both their living room and bedroom windows when their lights were on. Even with just their hallway lights you could see inside pretty well. You can imagine my interest in that!It was nearing Christmas and they really wanted to go home for the holidays but could not afford it. As with all the other single guys, I knew I would be working through the Christmas holidays so I showed up unannounced at their house.
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