Author: Elruade

Chapter 14



-Barbera, I don’t know how long I can be with you.

-How long?

-This is a carricature of weakness. I am engaged.

-To men?

-And to formaldehyde. Men are square in nature.


-Field of vision and turned textile.

-I see.

-Just get out.

-One last kiss?

-On the pavement!

J.E.G Opened the door and showed the ‘woman the way out’. He was sick of the stench of the Aston’s leather and decided to steal a Ferrari. Of course, it was his plan all along. He looked for a dealership; found one on the eastside.

He smashed through the glass in a new Ferrari.


Ferrari is man’s dream

A car should seat but two

To Intensity and Dedication

To life of Revolution

The simulacrum of Tivoli


The shape of the Ferrari was more exciting than a woman’s, and more polished. The script was long ago put in the water and drifting on the ocean. The headset he had destroyed and run over. There were no more cameras and no more shots. No more directives and no more goals. The mission, he understood now, had no briefing or objective. That is called ‘failing to understand’.

No gadget can have any use beyond its appearance. No woman can please beyond the pink pillow. (a realization only for buffoons) No reality is real save for the one he made for himself. Whether there are people around or not doesn’t matter. He drove through town with nothing on his mind, and nothing was an obstacle.

It reminds me; the story of Pierce Brosnan in Westminster. It was very similar to this one; again, we are confronted by the paradox of James Bond. Long ago I have abandoned the sentimentality that acting is good and fun. Now I am appalled by movies and I can no longer watch any.

Each and every James Bond is crushed under his own weight. For sure; they are crushed by the weight of Responsibility and Expectation. The kind of shoes they have to fill; sometimes the pressure is so powerful that you will kill yourself should you fail.

I promised, didn’t I? Here is what happened to him.

Pierce slid around the corner with handbrake and the car tires pulled this way and appeared to be coming apart. Westminster at Night; a ghastly sight. You cannot recognize the famous monuments or ask anyone for guidance. Tourists take shelter after nightfall; no wonder.

He took out the little map and looked it over underneath a flashlight. His objective; the Royal House of his Highness, Belarus. He was to personally deliver the letter to the prince. The red ink ran across the chart. Obviously he could just rely on his compass and head for an easterly direction.

This time he had no back-up or outsider help. They told him, you are out of the range of HQ satellites. It is a bother but we are certain you can do it by yourself.

The abbey appeared out of nowhere, as if it fell out of the sky. None of the streets were lit. It was some city policy; curfew. No-one was allowed outside after eight. The damage this has done to Westminster’s image is unimaginable. I don’t think they understand.

It happened just when a streetlamp ought to have lit up his face. He bumped into a person dressed in a yellow robe. He wanted to apologize to him outright, and Pierce stood on one leg. The man turned around; his face was covered by the yellow robe. Pierce was stabbed in the heart. A cry went up to Parlor Square and ended in the Sixteenth Avenue.



My dear friend, he left a Will in my name



My dear Basreol,

Are you reading this without me beside you? I am afraid to tell you that I am dead and in God’s Arms. I can feel their intense heat coming through the Givenchy. I have always trusted God because he never told me what to do. I will never retract these statements; I love the unknown.

Listen to me. God is larger than life. You have to dump your body and crush your skull. Don’t believe forensics when they tell you I was murdered. It was a perfect suicide, and I enjoyed the last sunset with glee. You cannot paste on a smile. I enjoyed my life for as long as it lasted. But my role as James Bond was a traumatic experience. I wouldn’t want anyone else to go through it.

For God’s Sake, don’t listen to anyone else. You cannot pretend to be James Bond; it is the most absurd thing imaginable. You have to become him yourself. I hate movies; I hate the theater. I regret certain parts of my life when I was a spectator. Actors are spectators too. Does James Bond really exist? You cannot ask yourself such questions. It is the same as the certainty of God.

Basreol; be certain of everything in life. You are James Bond if you want to be. But you should think hard for yourself if you want to be such a man. Don’t listen to anyone. And don’t listen to me, either. I know it sounds strange, but I think it is true.

Dear, I have left for you a bookcase and the Golden Trumpet I know you like so much. I never owned much. I want you to have these things. The bookcase is full of memorabilia and souvenirs. You may remind yourself of me, but I hope you get over it and destroy the contents. I didn’t have enough time to prepare, so I apologize if it’s a little unclear.

I love you, and you know that. I don’t regret anything!


Yourstruly, Pierce Brosnan


Please God Pardon My Sins.







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