I JUST DON'T KNOW WHEN TO STOP, DO I?
I keep picturing Maira waking up and crying after realizing Drim's gone, completely overwhelmed with the stark realization she should have never gone to that frat party.
"Sob, sob. JERK! He didn't even stay for breakfast! He probably thinks I'm a WHORE now!"
So there's the guy named Matt.
I suspect he's a bodhisattva, but we won't get into that. It's very complicated and neither of us have the time, I'm sure. What we will discuss is his shyness.
Matt is very shy. Especially with his photography, which is strange, because it's just so beautiful. I'll occasionally torment him about posting it somewhere where someone other than me can see it, but he'll usually just mutter something about never having the time to do that, and then go back to reading Internet forums for two hours straight.
So I'm posting the pictures for him. Make sure to email him and tell them how transcendent you think they are.
Since I'll be marrying the guy in December, I'm perfectlly willing to admit I may be a little biased. But you can't tell me that he doesn't have a knack for making the most mundane or unpleasant things absolutely riveting. He likes to photograph oilspots in parking spaces and elevator floors, too. But these six are probably my favorites. Enjoy. And makes sure to tell him he should have prints made.
This is becomin' a reg'lr cast-o-thousands, ain't it?
And here we have Bloom.
"Bloom" probably isn't his real name, but as far as everyone in Templar is concerned, he hasn't got another. A modestly successful dealer who keeps shop smack dab between the neighborhoods of Skinner and Churchyard, Bloom trades almost exclusively in heroin and cocaine, supplying a small, but steadily increasing number of regular clients. Presentable, reliable, and business-minded, he could probably afford to live far better than that if it weren't for his desire to remain under the radar of both local law enforcement and bigger-time pushers, who might not appreciate real competition.
And then there's his well-documented habit of blowing his profits on antique Nazi and Soviet war relics.
But don't let that fool you: Bloom, as he's happy to let just about anyone know, is a staunch Libertarian, and considers his particular line of work not only morally neutral, but nothing short of political protest.
Bloom is aware of a number of other Templars, but speaks regularly with Lorne and, until recently, the Elliots. He knows better than to talk to Epiphany. He's lost contact with Gene since he stopped stocking hash. But these days, he's probably closest to his cat, Eva. Take that however you will.
