Arthur came by the Mercedes when he was twenty-nine years old. The car was massive and already of a certain age. He had first heard of the splendid machine at some official function or another of the Turkish Consulate in Tampa. Honorary consul Willie Ferguson faced criminal charges over some phony business regarding the Hurlugolu Charitable Trust Fund. The unfortunate man had retained Arthur as his lawyer and offered him the vintage vehicle in exchange for his services. He also had squashed Arthur’s hat, which sat on a chair as the lawyer he must have been anxious to consult with was preparing to leave. The Turkish diplomat caught Arthur’s shoulder, making him turn slightly while he said, "So soon! Please stay a moment longer."
Who would have thought that I would see the damn bug? But I did. I swear I did. When I walked into the kitchen, it was there, standing on the can of soup that was to be my meal for that night. It had been delivered the day before with some other items by the grocery store. Since I am compelled to stay inside, I do my shopping through the internet. You know, when one fight with his computer for hours to create a list of what he needs. And he must wait a week to get the stuff dispatched where he lives. Only to realize that half of what he asked for is missing.
When I awoke, there was someone on the bed. I hadn’t slept too well and I mostly sensed the intruder’s presence by the pressure he applied on the box spring than by seeing who he was. Then my eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room, and I realized that it was God who had come to visit me. This put me in a kind a stupor. What was God doing near enough to me that I could touch whatever he used to cover himself, more like a drapery than anything sensible? He had plenty of beard and hair, both white. Still, he looked younger than me, all dressed up in one outfit the same color as my sheets.