The dark of the sun, insomnia and Kelly’s arrival…

 

Didn’t sleep last night. Tossing . Turning.

Kelly and her boyfriend came in. They had been dumped on the curb by the friendly taxi driver after he failed to find the address. Kelly stayed and guarded the luggage while Kevin walked the streets until he found the right door and then just started ringing the doorbell nervously.  I went down, swung it open, and when I saw him immediately knew who it was before he introduced himself.

We walked the two blocks in the cold and back, carrying the heavy luggage, trying to make small talk and not appear out of breath. I installed them a bit brusquely into their bedroom, told them we’d talk today and went back to bed.

Couldn’t go back to sleep, which is very unusual for me, turned the TV on and mindlessly zapped through the whole tirade a couple of times until I came across a film that looked convincingly old but not campy, it had this blonde guy, a mercenary, being offered a job.   It was set in Africa, which reminded me of a friend’s husband who, after knowing them years with me thinking he was some type of traveling salesman,  one drunk night made me privy to what he did for a living, basically “either enforced or protected specific interests through the professional use of military knowledge and experience”.    Anyway, the movie is called Dark of the Sun, and I do think it was good, in a Wild Geese sort of way.   I then turned the TV off and lay there in the dark looking at the ceiling thinking of Ilse. Yvette Mimieux had me thinking of her al throughout the fighting.  Some sadness, no regrets.

 

The Dark of the Sun
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