neues_leben_shark_in_the_water things we lost in the fire "vous avez ce que je veux," the witch said, leafing through the recent issue of adbusters she had purchased from whole foods. there was a bag next to her feet. inside was endives and clementines, arugula, and foie gras. d'affonois and panni for crostini. i have what she wants, rillian thought. he looked at the witch's feet. the black leather, calf-length boots, the stockings which rose all the way to her knees. one red and white-striped, the other, black and white. she wore a cotton mini-skirt, indigo, that accented the way she moved about in her seat, dramatically expressing herself in body language. liberally, but unintentionally, she revealed her starch white panties. rillian was enchanted and mesmerized. above the skirt was her pierced belly button, small silver balls hanging delicately. and then a tank-top that molded her ample breasts. it had the words, "shark in the water" written on the fabric with sharpie marker. one could not help but marvel at her. her face was greek but the kind that made you think of sunshine and water. her hair was the color of the black sands of soviet beaches. rillian asked her what it was that she wanted. the waiter brought the witch her alcohol. he enjoyed serving her. "c'est l'oiseau que je veux," the witch said, downing the knob creek in two swallows. he could smell her breath, hot and sweet, as she spoke. her voice was confident, but achingly willing to praise, sing, shout, moan. she wants the dying bird, rillian mused. i would give her my bleeding heart. 040629 ... things we lost in the fire before rillian could even think of executing a plan of immediate escape, the witch's penetrating gaze, bloodshot eyes and deeply furrowed brow, captured him like a shark in the water, harpoon spear stuck fast in his gaping side, rich, red blood pouring out. "YOU HAVE TOUCHED THE FORBIDDEN AND YOU WILL BE PUNISHED!" she screamed. foul smelling spittle formed at the corners of her mouth. rillian, forgetting his bag containing the dying bird, took off running as fast as he could. "GET HIM!" the witch yelled. she extended her thin fingers, pointing them at rillian. they shook with urgency. a skull fashioned in a ring on her middle finger seemed to echo her anger. suddenly, several overweight gorillas appeared from various rooms in the house. they wore white, nike track suits, but no shoes. there were machetes in leather pouches at their sides. they spoke to each other on two-way radios that squawked, beeped, and buzzed. "i see him," one said. "he's going into funworld." "keep a close eye on him," another said. 040708 what's it to you? who go blather from