A Portrait of Two
face of pasty-white skin framed with braids of wiry blond hair.
He wears knickers and high yellow socks, like a full-sized munchkin.
This was Fred, who
all day srummed an electric guitar a few
feet above my head.
Roland was a retired
alcoholic actor who paced the attic of our communal
mansion, pounding the floor with a cane, cursing phantoms out
the turret window, while his pitch-black three-legged dog-from-hell roamed
outside, pissing on whatever he could.