Surviving Deadly Affairs (Excerpt)
Excerpt from Surviving Deadly Affairs in Regaling on College Street
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Later that evening around 10:00 P.M. Dino Suventes, the club’s evening janitor, was on his rounds. He went in and begun dusting Rollsmacher’s office. He dusted the computer, the cabinets and finally the desk. When he dusted the desk he noticed a brown hardcover notebook laying open. He looked around. Since nobody was watching, Suventes glanced over the notebook.
July 18, 1982
I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into Silvia. Two evenings this week she’s been out until 1:00 a.m. She’s never been out that late in twenty years. When she comes home she hides what fun she’s had. It’s like she doesn’t want me to know she’s developing a social life.
Enjoying what he had just read, Suventes withdrew a pair of white rubber gloves from his pocket. He donned the gloves and begun flipping pages.
October 14, 1982
Fucking Bartlesman’s acting like a kid in the eighth grade. Smiling, laughing and skipping stones. He’s got a new woman. What else could it be?
December 12, 1982
After seven years, Bartlesman and Silvia are finally becoming friends. They were kidding around all night at the Christmas party. Looks like Bartlesman has finally forgiven me.
September 26, 1983
I’ve never seen Bartlesman this relaxed. It’s almost like he knows the truth. The truth about what?! He just tells me that he has this brand new outlook on life.
November 4, 1983
Why the fuck did I go to that convention in Chicago last summer? The sucker made his move then.
December 15, 1983
Why weren’t Silvia and Bartlesman mingling at the Christmas party like this year? They both really think I’m stupid. I’m just gonna wait around for the hard facts. Then somebody’s gonna have hell to pay.
March 25, 1984
Silvia and Bartlesman think I’m stupid. They’ve both been out together five times since Christmas. I found his socks this morning. Silvia’s a sleaze herself. Double-crossing her husband. God help that cocksucker!
June 15, 1984
I found his fucking t-shirt in my living room. She came to bed stumbling drunk, smelling of his cologne. We’ve been friends for fifteen years. He’s that stupid that he doesn’t think I know what kind of cologne he wears. I’LL CUT THAT MOTHERFUCKER INTO A THOUSAND PIECES AND FEED THEM TO THE DOGS!!! I can just taste it now. Blowing him away is just too easy. I gotta make him weasel as I tear every last piece of his stinking life away.
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