[Del]'s Diary

ENTRY FIFTY-NINE

I’m lying in bed with the horsey brunette’s head buried into my hairy and wiry chest. It is dark, but even with the lights off, I know that I am Frankie, and this is my wife.

I sense it is late, and that we’ve been sitting like this, up in bed, for several hours.

“Maybe, it’s time you got out,” she hesitantly suggests and I swallow.

“How?” I say.

“Simply resign. The way most people do it,” she suggests.

“I doubt they’ll let me out as easy as that,” I say while pinching her arm softly with the grip of my hand.

“They have to let you out. You work for the United States government not some fascist country,” she counters.

I snort and then sigh. “You'd think so,” was my only reply.

I don’t think you can get out though. Once they have you, they will never let you go. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have Frankie trapped in my head now, would I?

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