The Morrissey Keeper

I am at Morrissey’s house. He is looking after another friends dog. I feed the dog and if some washing up. Morrissey’s invited me to join him on tour, so he has someone interesting to talk to and hang out with, and to supply him with drugs. My female friends are jealous. I think about it. I can’t afford not to work, but it is the chance of a lifetime. I think about what books I’d take to read, and that I’d have time to be a tourist too.

The dog is hungry. I feed him again. Morrissey has hidden the dog food behind stacks of veg. I don’t know why. I feed the dog outside. A Russian neighbour has some kind of tiger hybrid as a pet, and it comes over to say hello, it’s very friendly and has no ears. How does it hear? Terrible.



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