THREE

But even after drinking all a that beer, I dreamed about her, and I couldn't stop thinking about her. Her pussy was too amazing. When I woke up, I went over to my brother's to talk about things. When he answered the door, he took one look at me and said, "Jesus Christ, what's going on now?"

I hung my head and told him I was in love with a whore. He didn't wanna let me in, but did it anyway.

Sitting in his apartment, drinking more beer, I explained how the sex we had, even though I was supposed to pay for it, was like a miracle; and now I couldn't get the bitch out a my mind. I'd never been so confused in my life, and I had no idea what to do. I was hoping my big shot brother could give me some advice.

"You want my advice?" he said, lighting up a cigarette. "Shoot yourself in the head. It would be faster than dying of some disease." Then he got up and left.

Wasn't exactly the kind of advice I was looking for; so when his old lady came into the room I fucked her in the ass, anally.

That still left me one big problem. What the hell was I supposed to do with all a the feelings for the whore? I decided the only thing I could do was pretend she didn't exist. Gradually, I hoped, her memory would fade away -- like and old fart.