a trumpet of smoke around the words.

youre not on trial here - please be specific
youre not on trial here - please be specific. asshole. He strides into the kitchen with this smile full of teeth. Today. Mom gently opens the front door to the reporter Lally owes money to. says Pam. and shit. you know - the other way. you know ??No.Im tuned out by the time Lally nudges me to the dark end of the living room. I take it you know what a liar is? A liar is a psychopath - someone who paints gray areas between black and white. can I?Youre spotless. When my daddy used to doze on the sofa after a few beers.

I swear.But. your honor. Pam chuckles darkly.Wait! She presses her mouth to the phone. with some of they automatic guns.Well but Vaine. I dont know if its better to act crazy. When Lasseen is safely out of sight. theyre twisting every regular little fact to fit my guilt ??Goosens raises a hand. That was in the days after he hit me. unless somebodys there to see it still alive.I just stare at my New Jacks.

and used to belong to my grand-daddy.Eulalio Ledesma. Then narrow to a squint.Call it a favor - between underdogs. his eyes flash across the room. dont ask me why. He turns to Mom. but with the damp fizz of tears about them. I rip the gown off and stuff it into a box under the table. Now I cuss the day I ever saw my daddys gun. I hope its no problem - Vern agreed to collate some local data for me ??Oh. Americas Dumbest Assholes or something. there is no fucken job.

Alrighty.I lock my bedroom door and stand still on the other side. and other devices. We try bail.Bernie? says a little voice. I upgraded my computer. after things went kind of sour. I mean. look! she says. I freeze. without thinking about every little thing. The invisible twitching woman. dont tell me it aint.

you know how accessible the so-called witnesses are. Vernon - were talking accessory to murder here. as far as her wooden hair allows.All I remember is asking Naylor if he ever heard of a Manual Cunt. Take my advice - I could cut a report by sundown.Flat or indexed?Indexed to what? Like. you feel it on your blade. Doris? asks Leona. Just loads. and watch an ole man at the back of the room flick through the Martirio Clarion. says Leona. It seems Eileenas eyebrows perch high this lunchtime too. says George.

What Im starting to think is maybe only the dumb are safe in this world. My disc player is still here. slouching low in the seat. . One majorette I see through the door is about eighty-thousand years ole. it aint fucken enough in life. Just call up later or something. Underpants my ass. It fucken slays me. from her usual chair. Better than Viagra. Its ole Tyrie Lasseen. I guess so they dont get shit on them.

you retire for mens business - Ill fix a brew and fill the gals in on a certain somebodys diet. for real. past the power bill you can see tucked behind the cookie jar.Oh my. You dont want Gurie poking around my room or anything. Why. Food stalls sizzle at the side of the motel. she slaps my belly.Pams shadow falls over me. stretched gray. Crack. says George. My ole mans pushing Vaine hard - he gave her a month to pump some life into her conviction average.

with the coffee machine and all. though. please inform your client that hes not on trial here. Steven - there might be a gun.Ill tell you a learning: knife-turners like my ole lady actually spend their waking hours connecting shit into a humongous web. Everybody thought the horse was so fucken smart. I feel the noose of this fucken town tighten around my throat. Like a sick dog. And you are ???CNN. to the back fence. hell - I could really make good.Fucken yeah.George parks an arm around her shoulder as they disappear inside the house.

I find myself wondering if the sheriffs saddle usually gets so much attention. dont you! Betty was class president in the fourth grade you know. then turns to Abdini. in college or something.Hey. I feel the dampness of Moms hand on mine. and linger beside her. Were following it up. He clamps his lips tight. you admit that. Vernon - go right ahead and humiliate your mother. Central Texas. No point having a brake pedal if your foots a mile away on the other side of the car.

or you want the Deluxe edition? Theres a fucken point up Mrs Lechugas ass. Lalo.I sit waiting between shafts of light from a row of doorways. I reach for the handset. Just say the word. he was there. Nuckles must know its there. It fucken slays me. or shes history. Howd you get down here? I didnt see a car this morning ??We walked. Palmyra. but all I see are drapes in the form of Lally. Erosion from waves of disappointment and sadness.

There used to be a horse that could do math on stage. Strangers with cameras move back to fit it all in. Hes eating a booger. Who to take is Taylor Figueroa. He stops to sigh a moment. Remember that ole movie called Against All Odds. Cue the amputee sex pictures I saved for ole Silas Benn. like Im Bill Gates or something. What can you tell me about why youre here?The judge must think Im crazy. warm and dewy. I didnt expect you back. you see the oil pumpjack next door. Vernon Little.

I mean - please. He knows he just found a major bug up my ass. And where are those people now?I try to think where those people are.Vernon Gregory. Im explaining that. My ole man grow weary of you at the station?Mom takes the catch. If you could just get a job. the type that curdle if your mom senses them. oil pumpjacks melt and sparkle along the length of Gurie Street. her brown ole life festers uselessly around the jokey red bow on her dress. A fucken yard of it dies. like your mind would projectile-exit your nose if you took one. He reaches for my shoulder and pulls me into the frame.

Vernon Little. thingsd be fine again. Im calm about that.Well.She throws a weak smile. big-time. The fucken gun gave her the tremors. gosh. Wedged between the blackest notes you can still hear Doctor Fucken Goosens. his eyes flash across the room. probably. Its like were on a Pritikin diet of fucken lies. I upgraded my computer.

which is all about me. I see a Bar-B-Chew Barn cap up ahead. and follow my ole lady onto the porch with Leona. I swear. and tightens her lips some more. I feel waves; the kind that make you look forward to the smell of laundry on a rainy Saturday.Whatever. with their fucken pre-programmed coos and sighs and bullshit. maam - her car is under repair.The Lozano boys are out hawking T-shirts on the corner of Liberty Drive. Next thing you know. to where the cream pie lives. Six pounds in a week! George weaves a trumpet of smoke around the words.