The sharp metallic hands on my white-faced wrist watch have just passed midnight.
I'm resting my back on a large striped cushion squinting into an endless black mass of rippling water with a real cigarette drooping out the left side of my mouth swirling a small glass of scotch in my hand..
There are no artificial flood lights illuminating my living quarters,
only a dim white beam of light coming directly down from a full moon, giving me just enough clarity to make out the tiny little carvings of people's names, fishes, diamonds and references to my incarceration that are scattered across a long wooden table..
It is a little bit cold.
I have a nice jacket that one of my freinds in Greece sent me
draped across the chair next to me but i'll be okay for now..
As soon as i spark this lighter up i'll probably forget about the cold..
It's taken me a while to put these words together.
I've been unsure of where to start..
In fact i'm STILL unsure of where to start..
It will come to me..