In which Marilyn, after two martinis and three Nembutal have caused a momentary lapse of her normal vigilance, and lulled her into believing herself safe in transient sub-reality, is taken by surprise by one of the Tweed Elite of the Evil Men in Hats. With his hands around her throat, she screams desperately. But, as everybody knows, in transient sub-reality no one can hear you scream. Oh no! Can this the end of Marilyn?
Oh, I hope not.
ReplyDeleteI think I like your Marilyn series better than mine.
ReplyDeleteIn fact, I know I do.
Bray-vo, sir!
You are too kind, my friend. I would never have done it without "If Charlie Parker Was a Gunslinger, There'd Be a Whole Lot of Dead Copycats" (http://tsutpen.blogspot.com/
ReplyDelete