Apocalypse of Jude

Gary looks at the coffered ceiling, troubled, confused and drowning in the odours of strange ointments and perfumes that swirl from unstopped ivory and coloured vials. These odours are further stirred by the air coming fresh in an ajar window, mixing with the smoke from recently extinct candles that haunt the corners of the room. Janice lies asleep alongside him. But his mind is not on the bedroom and its allurements, but on how it is that he is lying here, the room where once he slept with Mae, the room next to where he raped Audrey. He tries to fathom Paul machinations. Had it not been Paul’s insistence that he divorce Mae and pursue a career with her father instead. Had it not been Paul’s insistence that he date Audrey so that they could use her to clean Paul’s money. Had it not been Paul’s insistence that he allow Janice to seduce him and then screw her so as to break things with Audrey? After that she’ll fall to pieces, and because she’s done what she has done, she’ll have no moral ground for accusation, Paul had said. And he, Gary, had done it all for the power and the money that was soon to come his way.

/everythings coming together/ /then why do i feel so out of my depth/ /as if i really shouldnt be in janices bed/

His Whitsuntide dream of being a whale suddenly swims its way through his thoughts complete with the image of his flesh being hacked to pieces. He goes cold at the remembrance and tenses his body with aggressive will to push the thought from his mind, his worked out muscles filling with blood. Janice awakens, feeling the energy lustily. She doesn’t waste time in arousing him. He, desiring to give no further thought to his troubled mind, rolls instead onto to her to satisfy their lusts.

Wasteland Mix: Fragment 33