Saturday, October 17, 2015
His Evolution
After he started thrashing, Cecily insisted on twin beds,
cluttering his tiny studio further.
Shortly after, she left. Business trip to San Francisco...
where she decided to stay, hiring on with a weight loss
emporium. She chatted of her boss quite a bit, and then
the phone calls ceased.
Brad piled bills on her bed.
Enter Brennan. Yes, Brennan! Female. He often sang the
phrase Brennan On the Moor, which she found to be just
another of his Irish eccentricities.
Brennan had inherited a penthouse condo from beloved
Uncle Maxie. So, Brad gave his landlord notice,
Offering to leave the “furnishings.”
He took the bills from the bed, most had been paid, and
burned them on a grill in Rupp Park.
And became quite willingly neater and cleaner in the
luxurious digs.
One morning from her frantic cell: “I forgot the gray
attache case!” It evidently held documents equal to
Magna Carta, so Brad trundled it down the elevator
to meet Brennan’s squealing tires resounding in the garage.
Still in robe and pajamas, so she erupted “Aren’t you
going to WORK?”
“I thought I’d give it a shot.”
She shook her head and barreled out of there.
For some reason, the elevator shuddered at their floor.
“Good dog!”
From.
Him.
Issued.
Labels: Brennan on the Moor, condo, dog, Irish, living together, Magna Carta, penthouse, relationship
