cover design by Edvarg Kabylvlatk and Joseph Greenwood
Harry was home alone, drinking whiskey and smoking cigars, when a knock came on the door
Harry was home alone reading Jean-Paul Sartre, thinking of existentialism when a knock came on the door. It was Barbara, wearing a pink miniskirt and high heels.
“Hello Harry,” Barbara said, “is your cat warm?”
“Why yes, Barbary,” Harry said, “it is.”
Just then Harry’s neighbor, Clyde, came walking up.
“Hi Harry, hi Barbara,” Clyde said, “what are you all up to?”
“Oh, nothing,” Harry said, “Barbara here was just asking about the weather.”
“And how is it?”
“Warm,” said Barbara. “How are you going to spend it, Clyde?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Clyde said, looking at Harry, “I figured I’d come over and give you a smoke.” He held out his hand, holding a bag of tobacco. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” said Harry, stepping aside and closing the door behind Barbara and Clyde.
The three sat down in Harry’s living room, Harry on his reclyner in front of the TV, and Barbara and Clyde on the sofa. It was early in the afternoon, and the sun shone through the parted window curtains.
“Would either of you care for a drink?” Harry asked.
“Sure,” Barbara said.
“Sure,” Clyde replied.
Harry went to the kitchen and mixed the drinks, three Scotch and waters.