Chapter 151

309 2 29
                                    

I sat down in the chair and passed the sheet of paper across the desk to Marcus.

            He sighed as he read it over. "Have you even tried talkin' to Noel?" He asked.

            "Nothin' to talk about." I replied shaking my head. "He lied to me. I lied to him. Now, we're even so this is the only thing left to do."

            "I just think you should-"

            "I don't really care what you think, Marcus. I don't need your worldly advice. I just need you to accept my resignation."

            "PRN." He suggested. "If I need you, I'll call you. And if you're available-"

            "Fine." I agreed before standing up and heading for the door.

            "Addie?" He stopped me as I reached for the doorknob.

            "Yeah?" I looked at him curiously.

            "What are you goin' to do with your sheep?"

            The house was quiet when I returned. Almost silent save for a few soft sounds like Wilbur grunting and rooting around.

            I went to the bedroom and straight to the closet. I opened the door and gazed inside.

            All I needed to take was my clothes. That was really all that belonged to me apart from the pets.

            I stepped inside and began taking things off the rack. Off the hangers, out of drawers, and into boxes and suitcases.

Ten years living in a paper bag

Feedback baby, he's a flipped out cat

He's a platinum canary, drinkin' Falstaff beer

Mercedes rule, and a rented Leer

Bottom feeder insincere

High fed low fat pioneer

Pretty young girlfriend, daddy's jewel

A change

A change would do you good

Would do you good

A change would do you good

I think a change

A change would do you good

Would do you good

A change would do you good

            I got the first flight out of Heathrow. When I landed at my destination, I got a bus from there. And another bus about an hour after that.

God's little gift is on the rag

Poster girl posing in a fashion mag

Canine, feline, Jekyll and Hyde

Wear your fake fur on the inside

Queen of south beach, aging blues

Dinners at six, wear your cement shoes

I thought you were singing your heart out to me

Your lips were singing and now I see

A change

Madferit: The NovelWhere stories live. Discover now