| From: | Dvixen dvixen@****.com |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Let's start off with a nasty challenge. ;) |
| Date: | Sat, 10 Apr 1999 23:55:45 -0700 |
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Dennis Serot was the kind of fat that sweated, even in the winter. In an
overheated downtown coffee bar, Marbury watched the beads of sweat accumulate at the
Frenchman's temples underneath the brim of his white fedora. The palms of Dennis's hands
were getting damp, too. The Frenchman took long, hard-won breaths that had the rhythm of
a faulty metronome. Marbury was sure that someday Serot would suffocate under the effort
of being him.
"How was the play?" Serot asked.
"Very good. Not brilliant. Thanks for
