Passing his room one afternoon, I heard Harry rasp, ”Time,mate.”
This was an order to give him the hour.Harry didn’t ask questions.With a prod the door squeaked open slowly -as if it knew the full value of the obscenity within.
Harry had spread himself wide on the bed.He piped on an impossibly tiny cigarette ,”;you could see all his ribs as he lay there in his mustard y -fronts ,watching his smoke rings expand and die. An ancient odour of onions and fresher blasts of vodka fought it out ,but the combined smell owned the room.
“Why is the floor covered in newspaper? “I asked .
“Cos, “he said,
I wanna see if I can fall out- wivow ‘urtin meself.” #drcosmostour
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