The Trickster Diaries/Chapter 101
If only it had ended there. It was meant to end there. I wanted it to end, but, drunk and lashing out, it seemed, she kept it going.
Juliette: You too, huh? I must be on some kinda roll. Cheers!
Me: Sure. Cheers.
Good. Now we’re done, I thought, until…
Juliette: You’re way too smart for a sick idiot like me. Tell that to the tobacconist.
Jesus. So she HAD been reading my short prose. Wait. This is coming off like jealousy. She’s jealous of Liz?!
Alcohol, abandonment shit flying around like a bat in a studio apartment, maybe a late afternoon “girl power” Oprah rerun, a paranoid scenario I’d foolishly helped create.
Time to end it.
Me: I saw her today, actually. She wants to fly to NYC, kick your ass.
Juliette: (After a very long, soundless interlude) Your soul is beautiful. I will meditate on that.
Nice try, kid. Definitely an Oprah approved way of forgiving one’s oppressor, snatching the moral high ground.
Time to finish her off.
Me: Sweet dreams, Juliette.
The next morning her Ello feed mirrored a redacted FBI file.