"France," corrected Henry, "Paris, France. The city of love." He was dreaming of France.
"You know anybody in France?" asked Jack, puzzled. "Have any friends there?"
"No, but I can make friends, all I need and then some."
He's lost his marbles, thought Jack. Gone daft. Hamster brained. Loco. Missin' some dishes. A few bricks shy of a load. All those ways of saying 'crazy', came to mind, as they stood out there in the street. He wasn't having fun like he thought he would. Not much point in needling somebody who's lost his senses.
"You hungry?" this after a long, long silence.
"Yes, I am," answered Henry, with a nearly angelic smile.
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About Me
- roberto kiam borderlineartist@gmail.com
- I live in a quaint, little town, plagued with the specter of speculation and commerce. I am trailer trash,with wishes for good dishes. I shoulda died long ago, but like a rescue dog, didn't. I am indescribably scattered. I speak three languages. I walk a tenuously, true path. I am lucky. For myself, for others. God, it is said, protects orphans, widows and the innocent.
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