A Singular Man - By J. P. Donleavy Page 0,80

with it written on a sign. You know you were the sweetest employer I ever had. When I hold this. It's going to be a great shame when you die."

Miss Tomson's eyes gone grey because they do at dawn she said. Marble canopy over my last remains. Few miles south of here. And she'll walk that day on her tall blond legs through the gate of the garden of deads. In her hand a little bunch of violets. Crossing the pebbled paths, a wind blowing and bending the branches of trees and some leaves will fall and float to the first step of my tomb. Near the grass verge with its little sign. Perpetually Endowed. And Sally it was that latter word the first woman I ever slept with said to me. She was a queen with hair like sugar cane and her face and lips like soft sweet putty. She saw it and said you're well endowed. The night it happened I had been tempted away from my college rooms. Had a crazy man who visited me every Friday afternoon and smoked a cigar in front of my mirror. Would laugh loudly at his image uttering dramatic remarks, and said he was an actor. I left him and went to a tavern by the quays where the college bucks were drinking and singing hymns. There was Giles who invited old men back to his college apartments for games. Members of the rowing club riposted, for God's sake, man, clean up your life. Outside this pub ships were wheeling in the river, winches trembling, cables stiffening across the dark waters as they pulled bows towards the sea. And under a table there was her leg. She was blond like you as well as a queen.

"Don't leave me Smithy, not for a few hours anyway.

Promise."

"Promise."

"I'll drive you back to town. You know. I went by Golf Street once. Taking Goliath for a walk. It was so sad. Looked up at your office and all of it empty and I nearly cried. Cigar guy, out viewing his big time display window comes across the street. Wants to know if he can help. Told him to mind his own business. You know what he said, sister if you got any connection with that guy, they caught up with him, so you better beat it. I said sic him Goliath. Did that guy skidaddle. I was gloomy. I thought God, here I am making all this money, and my poor old friend Smith had to beat it. Felt like leaving you money in my will. Even talked to my lawyer about it. You know they made a plaster model of me, it's everywhere all over town. Gave me the willies thinking what some guy might do to the cast. They had to tame down my lines. I don't know, you don't think they're too big. Why do you smile. You know Smith I don't even love you. I'm going to look at you as a curiosity in my life. You never even took me out. Or even bought me a soda. All the while I'm thinking you're broke. Till I see your apartment then I think you're the biggest tightwad who ever lived. I still do. And here you are in my arms. You haven't even offered to pay for smacking up my fenders."

"These are fine fenders."

"Just fit your hands. Wish I didn't have troubles. I'm supporting my brother. He's out of work, trying to start a corporation. I said why don't you operate like a friend I know which was you. I said he just has four walls and a pencil and cleans up. My brother wants his own building with his name on top. Said it's necessary with the kind of people he knows. God Smith you're so beautiful just lying there. You even have shoulders, not much, but impressive. If I tickled it like this it will grow big again. You better realise I'm just an innocent girl. Saying it to such an innocent guy. Sure I'll come to your funeral. This will need a little box all by itself."

Sunday morning down on the station with big stacks of newspapers lifted off the train. Cars come slowly by and take one home. The Boar Hotel, four windows curtained, closed to the light. Rain cleaned sky, with white puffs of new clouds coming from the west. Miss Tomson's black long car parked with five others on the circular drive. She pranced up

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