...and will was shorn

february 21, afternoon

yesterday, last night, i drove back to the apartment after being down in vista for a couple of days, working. after charging up the stairs and directly to the bathroom, i was in immanent danger of suffering a violent rupture of the bladder, i noticed three things: the first, will sitting on the couch; the second, a sea of tulips in small pots on the coffee table, the kitchen table and on the porch; third, will, shorn.

having avoided a serious medical emergency i re-entered the wash of pink and red. will told us, claire was with me, that he had purchased fourteen pots of tulips after wresting them from the clutching grasp of innumerable middle-aged asian women and cheap, distressed husbands of angry wives. the total charge paid for the flowers was twenty-eight cents. he used his credit card.

when he got home with them, however that was achieved, he gave one of them to Pearl, our neighbor underneath, from her noisy neighbors upstairs, as the note said. it was a fantastic gesture, she's not a fan of our nightly carousing and we've had more than one run-in. 

he then informed us that, as if that hadn't been enough to satisfy even the most voracious of lusts for happy surprises, our water-heater had been replaced and that his computer had been repaired and was once again in commission.

signs and wonders, i leave for thirty-six hours and come home to a world transformed. will looks like a very cheery seventeen-year-old as he clicks away at his computer, the flowers smell nice and taking a hot shower again, what joy.

         

---william s. burroughs