He felt spend, confined to the chair. It was still something of a night-time, so he had more to think of and say before the dawn. Oh Junax, more to go eh?
What if she came crying back to him?
What if she regretted it?
He would slam the door in her fucking face, but some might not.
He thought of that film, Sleeping With The Enemy. Julia Roberts was better looking but she was definitely banging Patrick Bergin. She'd come home one night to find David Dodds had broken in just to arrange her towels correctly.
But was this bad karma, dealing like this. He didn't know.
The more he thought about it so...
'He looks like fuckin' Kurgan from Highlander!' He spat.
Certainly in the picture of them in his mind, Dodds looked liked the type of sick deception that would win the Prize and bring 40 centuries of darkness to the Earth.
More bitter dispatches from the front eh? They said in Canada.