Originally posted by Pauldo@Mar 7 2006, 04:01 AM
I never actually chose to marry a foreign woman. Never went overseas to meet a girl. My life was full enough just trying to survive in that festering West African jungle. Twelve years fighting somebody else’s war, always somebody else’s war.

The pay was good, yeah, but hell, I was tired of being shot at. African wars are always dirty, and sick, too much money, too little time. I'd done my last stint in a stinking bush hospital, three to the chest, nearly three too many, now I was out of it for good. I'd found a place to hole up and lay low for a while. I had money, loads of money, I'd be good for a while. Just a bottle of Jacks and a dame, and I'd be good.

I'd woken in some sleazy back street short time bar, stinking of cigarettes and cheap whisky. Hell, I could hardly remember what country I was in, there had been so many, far too many, running, always running. This was the Philippines, like no other country, but like too many, seedy, ripe, a man in need could find anything he wanted, if he had the means to pay or bargain for it.

It was early, too early, I wasn't yet hung-over, but I should have been. Hell yeah. The fan turned lazily overhead, just enough to move the heavy air in the room, sweet smelling smoke, the dregs of last nights opium party. Last night? Oh man, I remembered it like a dream, what had I told the girl, some story of romance and wanting to settle down. Ha, she'd be lucky.

I opened my eyes, painfully. My head was fuzzy, wired still, tired, but running hot. Too many 'ludes, again. She was laying there, watching me, with a cold look on her beautiful heart shaped Asian face. My empty wallet swinging between her fingers, lifeless. I couldn't pay her, she knew it, I knew she knew it. There was no way out this time. Downstairs Guido would be polishing his chrome plated pump action, always polishing that darn thing, just staring and polishing. He'd cut me in half if I made a run for it. For what? A few hundred dollars unpaid bar bill. I’d done it again, but this time I was too old to be running away. It had to stop, now.

I knew the answer. I'd reached rock bottom, there was nowhere else to go, nowhere was any lower than this place. Most losers found god when they got to this stage, hell, there was nothing else this far down the sewer. Not for me, there was still life in this old wreck, this old carcass of a yesterdays hero. All I could do was sign on the dotted line, sigh my life away, tie the knot. I'd be off the hook, the broad would be happy, Guido would be happy, we'd all be happy, just so happy.....
And now, ten years later, we're living in the Midlands, with a nice little house, and a four year old daughter :-)



With writing talent like that, man you should be cranking out paperbacks. Best 3 paragraphs I read since Mickey Spillane..

Lets have a second instalment Pauldo!!