the upholsterer's pin was rather a premonition, alarmingly, though it wasn't me. peeping tom is vulnerable now, and so am i. it's quite delicious/terrifying.
i used to have this friend name of norman. he was a real old fellow and when he felt his time was coming he all of a sudden needed piano lessons, so i gave them him. we put some postits on the keys but often he was too frail to play. and in the end he died, but he was playing hands together by then, bless him. when i tell this to peeping tom he cries and i suck the beads off of his cheeks. i could suck peeping tom's beads all day.
i sincerely hope he isn't plotting my assassination. there's always that fear isn't there.