things move around

The first thing that strikes you about Paul is his extravagant coiffure, billowing out and up from his prominent forehead like a black stormcloud on a prairie. This diverts your attention momentarily from his stoatish, obsidian eyes and slightly effeminate mouth. Paul ought to have luxuriant sideburns, to the extent that your mind’s eye superimposes them onto his cheekbones. His smile is as thick and cloying as a faceful of hydrangeas.

Paul shakes you by the hand and says “Hi, Paul Plaza. How are you?” He has an estranged wife who married an Arab millionaire and two children whom she took with her to Dubai. Paul’s wife had exquisite white teeth and pert breasts.

When night falls, and Paul closes his eyes, his dreams roil in his mind like a tarpit engulfing a sabre-toothed tiger.