The Burn Read Free

turned round and fucked you in
some way or another. That was his experience.
    The film would soon be done, thank God. It was a murder picture, it was about a guy that was a mass-murderer, he kills all sorts of folk. A good-looking fellow too, handsome, then he goes bad
and starts all the killing, women mainly, except for a couple of guys that get in his way, security men in the hostel, it was a nurses’ hostel, full of women, and a lot of them fancy him, the
guy, the murderer, he gets off with them first, screws them, then after he’s screwed them he kills them – terrible. And no pity at all.
    But sometimes you could feel like murdering somebody yourself in a way, because people were so fucking awful at times, you helped them out and nothing happened, they just turned round and didnt
thank you, just took it like it was their due. His landlord was like that, the guy that owned the house he stayed in, he was a foreigner, sometimes you helped him out and he didnt even thank you,
just looked at you like you were a piece of shite, like you were supposed to do it because you stayed in one of his fucking bedsits, as if it was part of your fucking rent or something.
    He was sick of the coffee, he leaned to place the carton on the floor beneath the seat. He grimaced at the woman. She didnt notice, being engrossed in the picture. To look at her now you would
hardly credit she had been greeting her eyes out quarter-of-an-hour ago. Incredible, the way some females greet, they turn it off and turn it on. He was going straight home, straight fucking home,
to make the tea, that was what he was going to fucking do, right fucking now. Hamburger and potatoes and beans or something, chips. He was starving. He had been sitting here for two hours and it
was fucking hopeless, you werent able to concentrate. You came to the pictures nowadays and you couldnt even get concentrating on the thing on the screen because
    because it wasnt worth watching, that was the basic fact, because something in it usually went wrong, it turned out wrong, and so you wound up you just sat thinking about your life for fuck sake
and then you started feeling like pressing the destruct button everything was so bad. No wonder she had been fucking greeting. It was probably just cause she was feeling so fucking awful depressed.
About nothing in particular. You didnt have to feel depressed about something, no in particular, because there was so much of it.
    The bar of chocolate in his pocket. Maybe he should just eat it himself for God’s sake! He shook his head, grinning; sometimes he was a fucking numbskull. Imagine but, when he was a boy,
leaving all these dowps lying vertical like that, just so somebody passing by would think they had landed that way! It was funny being a wean, you did these stupid things. And you never for one
minute thought life would turn out the way it did. You never for example thought you would be sitting in the pictures waiting for the afternoon matinée to finish so you could go fucking home
to make your tea, to a bedsitter as well. You would’ve thought for one thing that you’d have had a lassie to do it for you, a wife maybe, cause that’s the way things are supposed
to be. That was the way life was supposed to behave. When you were a boy anyway. You knew better once you got older. But what about lassies? Lassies were just so totally different. You just never
fucking knew with them. You never knew what they thought, what they ever expected. They always expected things to happen and you never knew what it was, these things they expected, you were
supposed to do.
    What age was she? Older than him anyway, maybe thirty, thirty-five. Maybe even younger but it was hard to tell. She would’ve had a hard life. Definitely. Okay but everybody has a hard
life. And she was on a diet. Most females are on a diet. She wasnt wearing a hat. Most females were these days, they were wearing hats, they seemed to be, even young lassies, they