She was crazy about me, a fact I found puzzling because we had absolutely nothing in common. Her idea of a good time was watching game shows on television, mine was playing baroque music on the harpsichord. I couldn’t tell if she really enjoyed the sex we had, or was simply faking it in order to please me. The more she faked it, but more I enjoyed it. But that’s just the way I am.

My years incarcerated taught me nothing. Years inside meant that whatever natural instincts that led me to formerly trust others were now obliterated. That might not be such a bad thing. People should earn your trust. Most don’t make the effort. Fine, you can’t be all things to all people.

I began to wonder if she were a decoy, a shill, someone sent to trick me by an enemy. I have many enemies. Too many to count, they lie in wait for me to let down my guard. I found it implausible that a women would naturally desire me. Any woman. Even the most deranged woman would still find it nearly impossible to want me.

She bought me an expensive birthday present. How did she even know it was my birthday? I certainly didn’t tell her. Again, such a detail spoke of hidden wheels turning. I looked back over the last few years. That time in Panama when I booked a room in a whorehouse and then simply took a nap. The lady in Argentina whom I talked about forming a business partnership with in order to buy and sell antique watches, but then stopped communicating with when I realized the whole enterprise was pure delusion.

Could these be the clandestine agents of revenge who were skillfully and secretly weaving their web?


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