“That’s nothing,” he said “my wife came home with a card stuck to her ass that said ‘All of us at the station will miss you dearly’”

Came to class today with my tie and Italian sports jacket to start off the week. I did this for two reasons, the first being that I had missed the last two days of my first week due to horrible stomach illness (bad cheese) and wanted to make up for it with the appearance of professionalism. The second was that I would be asking the director if he would allow me to miss an entire week of school come October so that I can attend an international conference in Turkey and I needed to up the charm a bit. Everyone seemed so impressed that I even owned a tie that all the teachers who never once smiled in my direction offered to buy me a Nescafe, the only coffee available, and the director happily agreed to my free week vacation. I even came to my classroom to find that computer I had asked for weeks ago sitting on my desk. Coincidence?

Time is now spent either in school teaching or playing ping pong, at the youth center playing ‘Settlers’ with the Germans, or in my room on the top floor gazing out my window as I listen to Chopins ‘Three Nocurnes’ which is set perfectly for light rain. The flies here are horribly clumsy, almost worth pitying, unlike the American flies that anticipate every swing leaving one vexed and irritated. These post-communist flies sort of just loiter around my table bumping into one another waiting for the hand to fall and end their short and absurd lives. I suppose I could catch one of them with a chopstick then tie it with a string but it would probably just waltz on back to its comrades and continue feeling sorry for itself.

On my way to the market Yesterday I realized that the little shop I go to for sandwiches is actually connected to the church, along with the hardware shop, and the appliance store with its neon signs. I took a step back and realized that all my favorite shops are actually housed within the buttresses of the towns’ church. I marveled at this seamless blend of Capitalism and Catholicism as I haggled for beans and cheaper bananas. Paying more then 6 lei for a kilo of ripe bananas tells every farmer within sight that you can be hornswoggled. I was their target for the first month until I got wise.

Anyway I have been playing with ridiculous first sentences for short stories and I thought I would share a couple I wrote today:

He opened the door to the smell of an old refrigerator freshly opened and there on the floor laid Ms. Popescu, she still had that half smirk on her marbled bloated face.

There were plenty of unspeakable undertakings she would gladly admit to, but it’s the ones she didn’t do in Hamburg that this story is about.

After a long period of reflection he slowly and with great effort reached his frail hand into the upper left vest pocket and pulled out his whistle, snagging his cocaine tin along with it.

I woke up, supposing everything that happened resembled a dream I set the pistol down on the park bench and floated to the nearest hospital.

They call me Poobah. I’m thirtysomething years old, look like a horse jockey, eat like a horse, and hate horses. I also find the sound of children singing and people who read while sitting on toilettes intolerable but this is not about them, and I am not a hateful man, this is about why I love to kill.

Anyway these were all written on about the 5th cup of Nescafe so I can’t receive all the credit. Gotta sleep now.