(Matter of fact, her skin was silk and that was only a malevolent gossip
that had grown around her character among those who had not met her in
person yet: a nurse of such beauty and politeness.
- My God, Parker, I dream of her day and night.
- Can't blame you.
- I am fucked up..., added, putting down his cigarette in the ashtray and
swallowing down the entire content of the glass before him.
- That was my 4 stars drink, did you realized it?
- Yeah, I did. Sorry. I did not mean to exploit you beer. - said Dom,
staring away, with an expression on his face that Parker judged to be of
disproportionate ingratitude.
- I regret to have loved such a man. - he groaned.
- I can see her bright face from my to-be hospital bed.

Parker's heart sunk. 'This is my hour', he thought. Farwell, Dom, sweet
angel. Then, said aloud: ' I think I shall have myself appointed Captain
in Chief and leave this chaotic town.

- I give you permission to do so, parker. I can't hold you here.
- At least I will be able to sleep sound in my new bed. You,... you are
horrible to me ...you always speak of her...Oh, my God, I was mad...to...
- Parker, don't say this. Be compassionate with me. I want that woman. I
wished I was safe in her arms...
- She is not a woman, she is a ....nurse. - Parker said resentfully.
- I need her. I am a poet, and she holds a mirror up to nature, for me...

- A big black threatening mirror...that will destroy you.
Dom was not listening to Parker. That she would destroy him was a
possibility he believed himself to be clever enough to avoid.

Parker took his Rizla and lighter and left the pub, dismayed. The street
were flooded with water. Dom sat there for a long while, that night,
staring out through the window panes, thinking fondly of his nurse
























On Sun, 24 Feb 2002 13:17:12 -0000, domfox <[log in to unmask]> wrote:

>Her mouth was so small it might have sealed over in a moment of
>forgetfulness. She talked constantly, as if in awareness and mortal dread
of
>this possibility.
>
>My collapse, she intimated, was moral. Psychosomatic? I said. But that
>wasn't what she meant. As in Victorian fiction, the loss of a female
>character's reputation can only be followed by madness and death, the body
>sinking into a swoon and from a swoon into a fever, so my moral fragility
>was a directly physical phenomenon. I could start leaking at any moment.
>
>Is there no cure? I asked with what I took to be an appearance of
>nonchalance. At this she looked stern. Such talk, she said, was
symptomatic
>of the root disorder. I must stop regarding myself as an invalid in need
of
>treatment, still less a sufferer of pathologies for which a cure might or
>might not be found. My longing for the sickbed, for convalescence and
>recovery, for *her*, was unrealistic and unacceptable.
>
>I don't know what you mean, I said. And by the way, your skin is awful.
>
>--> Knowledge is the pursuit of ignorance by other means <--
>homepage: http://www.geocities.com/domfox
>----- Original Message -----
>From: "Candice Ward" <[log in to unmask]>
>To: <[log in to unmask]>
>Sent: Sunday, February 24, 2002 1:16 AM
>Subject: Re: Hoaxes and Heteronymity interview
>
>
>> Say, Foxer, o lyricist extraordinaire, did that nurse have bad skin, by
>any
>> chance? Somebody told me a nurse was going around with my name but alas
>and
>> alacking the oirish tincture--helluva thing! And then there's the grief
>> counselor, and the empress of parking spaces at some university....
>Luckily,
>> none of them seems to have my big mouth--Candice
>>
>>
>>
>> on 2/23/02 7:34 PM, domfox at [log in to unmask] wrote:
>>
>> > "Listen Palmer," he said later. The way he said "listen" was meant to
>sound
>> > urgent. Actually it made him sound drunk, which he was. Palmer, who
was
>> > drunk also, leaned over the table in the Horse and Jockey with a
feigned
>> > look of concentration on his face. He had not paid the slightest
>attention
>> > to anything Dom had said for the past three-quarters of an hour.
>> >
>> > "Are you listening? You'd better be..."
>> >
>> > "I'm listening. I'm listening. How's your pint?"
>> >
>> > "Better than the last one. I spilled that, you know."
>> >
>> > "I know, old man. I know. I need to piss. Quite urgently, as it
>happens."
>> >
>> > "Well get a move on then. And then come back here and listen to what I
>have
>> > to say."
>> >
>> > Palmer stood up and lurched in the direction of the toilets. Dom
started
>> > rolling a cigarette, using Palmer's tobacco and Rizla papers which he
>had
>> > left on the table. He was still making an awful job of it when Palmer
>> > returned. "Where was I?" Palmer said.
>> >
>> > "You were about to listen to something. That I was about to say. Damn
>these
>> > Rizlas, I think they're damp."
>> >
>> > "I think somebody spilled beer on them. What were you about to say?"
>> >
>> > "Is that cigarette machine over there working?"
>> >
>> > "Is that it?"
>> >
>> > "No of course it's not. I just want a cigarette, and I can't get this
>Rizla
>> > paper to stick together properly."
>> >
>> > "You don't smoke."
>> >
>> > "No, but you do. In a minute you'll want another, and you won't be
able
>to
>> > have one, because these Rizla papers of yours are damp. So go and buy
a
>> > packet of B&H, there's a good chap. And lend me one."
>> >
>> > "In a minute. I'm on tenterhooks. Literally. I want to know what it
was
>you
>> > were going to tell me."
>> >
>> > "That nurse..."
>> >
>> > "I didn't think she was that good-looking."
>> >
>> > "You misunderstand me. I think she may be working for us."
>> >
>> > "Quite likely. She was in the infirmary at the ministry, after all.
>Wearing
>> > one of our staff uniforms. Oh for heaven's sake, give me that."
>> >
>> > Parker snatched the failed cigarette out of Dom's hand, nearly
spilling
>what
>> > was left of both their pints in the process. He emptied the tobacco
from
>the
>> > damp Rizla paper into his tobacco pouch, then closed the pouch and
>tucked it
>> > away in his pocket. "Better get some from the machine I suppose. This
>> > nurse?"
>> >
>> > "I don't think she was actually a nurse."
>> >
>> > "I see. But working for us, all the same?"
>> >
>> > "Yes. That's what I'm worried about..."