The Black Path of Fear

A friend. Carried grand. A star of the black path of fear. A suspense play produced, edited and directed by William's Fear. A friend. It was our first day in Havana. We'd taken a heck, an open horse-drawn carriage, and spent the afternoon driving around to see the sights.

She was always crazy about Jade. So in Chinatown we stopped in a little curiosity shop. The driver steered us to. We bought a few gadgets there and started back thought the main part of the town was getting dark and she snuck it up close to me they in the carriage. It's been a wonderful day. Yeah. I was scared at first.

Couple of times I thought I saw him in the crowd there and trying to sound. Guess what it is. Just my imagination. Sure it was. He wouldn't find me rough stuff this far from his home base. He may be a little cedar around his nightclubs back in Florida. But here in Cuba he's just another alien that better not talk

get caught carrying a gun. He said he'd get me if I ever left. No matter where I went. Nobody sent a radio grab, wishing us luck. That's what worries me. He can say which kind of luck.

Elko, Belver, Elko. So what's this driver? He's Sloppy George. He could touch him to hubber. Of course. Floppy Joe's. Want to go in darling? Why not? We can only die one. So I paid the coach when we went in to Sloppy Joe's.

The place was jammed to the sidewalk line. So noisy you couldn't hear self-think. It was like a football scrimmage when you moved in. And like parties in a cam when you stood still. And then suddenly the crowd divided in front of us like a red sea.