Klee's First Victim

Klee's tale, as told to Neville:

The first time I saw that bitch, she was kicking her own dog. She had on a short black skirt by that silly little girly-boy from the Upper East Side, and a top that looked like it came from a thrift store--- tiny stripes of pink & orange on a field of slate gray, it looked so sharp worn all tugged-down with a little pin she probably bought from some hippie chick @ a Jam Festival.

Those shoes, the shoes alone I would have killed for, but I knew that she wasn't a target for a simple robbery/murder. I'd seen her berating the old Greek shopowner a thousand times @ the little stand where she bought all her fruits & vegetables about the ripeness of his avocadoes & the sweetness of his plums.

This day, she spit on a homeless guy that wasn't even panhandling her, he just happened to be "in her way"--- that's what she told him, as if she had dominion over the sidewalk he was sprawled out on...



more later--- something's come up & it has to be dealt with IMMEDIATELY...