The King

Before I report on the situation on Lincoln Road and the taking in of new, refugee boys into the group, I have to say a little something about the creature who has meant so much to me as to defy decription and, perhaps, make me absurd. Of course, it is about my beloved KiKi, also know as El Tigre.

My ex was working so, I stopped by with KiKi's casserole of noodles, beef, bacon, peas, cheese, and garlic in a red sauce. He was exicited by my unannounce arrival, but--with Jeremy gone--I can't publish my schedule anymore. The last thing I want is a bomb thrown at my feet with a casserole in my hands. Even though I bought a sweet, carpeted staircase for him to get on the bed, KiKi is hesitant about it's stability. Like minds think the same. I lifted him to his bed and the silk comforter I bought for him recently; he was elated.

And I was, too.