| OCR Text |
Show Acting Alone Page 4 49 Utah, the churchy types, were not applicable to this "agent" at all? And what if luring him out into the open tomorrow morning (or, rather, this morning) would not really free Sam from the clutches of the old bird's reputedly bloody talons? Then, his heart nearly snapping under the weight of seemingly light conversation with the deep-eyed nun, Sam once again came within a nosehair of telling her what exactly was restraining him, keeping him prisoner here like the Lady of Shalott. But the irresistible force of the desire to disburden his soul and the immovable.object of preserving Sister Polycarpana from finding out too much came smashing together in his chest and the fucking shit hit the fan, as it were, expanding his chest cavity by at least three inches and puffing him up as by a sudden rush of most primitive, regressive, bullish testoserone, and he leapt to his feet and bellowed, "I'm just gonna tell him to eat some shit! I'm just gonna flop right down here on my ass and refuse to write God-damned word-one!" Then he provided his beautiful visitor with an appropriately writerly reason for this presumed refusal to honor such a wonderful career-making contract. "I'll breach not so much out of loyalty to my little preppy buddy wandering out there in the hills all alone, as for esthetic reasons. He's not allowed me enough time to rewrite and polish my beloved language!" Secretly, Sam was figuring that, with his family background and personal history of extensive abuse of the hardest drugs, not to mention his downright schizy written work, including that ranting pro-fascist piece in the KRotCH whose downright insane, perverted energy recently instigated a famous pogrom |
