Mamu’s Watch.

August 20, 2008 at 6:49 pm | Posted in writing | 11 Comments
Tags: F., Mamu, the watch, writing

     Mamu turned off the radio and its Incessant Babylon and looked at his watch. It made no sense to him, it was the old man’s watch and there were far too many dials and jewels and it bedazzled him momentarily. It was a distraction from the waiting. He wound down the passenger window bent his massive frame and peered out of the limo into the dark of the alleyway. He suddenly remembered he was still wearing Bootsy Collins sunglasses. No wonder,
    He couldn’t tell if the band was still playing in the club or it was the sound of his heart beating. He really shouldn’t have taken Three Card’s limo without asking but she had been insistent and even though Mamu knew that many other men who actually had things to give to her also loved her, he could not help himself. He settled back into the soft leather. Besides, he was Mamu.
    There was a sudden clatter as the door at the back of the club flew open, and fucking stay out! Said F. throwing the pianoplayer into the garbage cans. Not again, thought Mamu, who tattooed who this time? He looked at his watch then turned the radio on,

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