Purgatorium Read Online Free PDF Page B

answering his own question .
    Who is Raphael? Is he talking about himself in the third person?
    Raphael continues, dripping with cool. “You good at what you do here?”
    Not knowing who he is and what he does here, I’m not sure how to respond, but it’s clear I should defend myself.
    I nod.
    Raphael cocks his head. “You nodding at me? Nodding’s just another way of saying ‘pretty well.’ Did you know that? ‘Pretty well’ gets you a measly hot meal, a peasant’s warm bed, and a homely wife to screw, if you even feel like screwin’. Does that sound like living to you? Yesterday, some poor family man tells me he wants to be like me. He went down the list. This man said he wanted the nice suits, fancy cars, high rise apartment, the whole parade! I looked him square in the eyes and you know what I said to him back?”
    Feigning indifference, I shake my head.
    “‘Screw you!’ I said. ‘You gave up your one-time admittance once you put a ring on it!’”
    He laughs. “To be in this world there needs to be sacrifices. No emotion, no ties. A man only knows his worth when he can grab life by the balls and no woman is there to loosen his grip. They are merely cattle to men like us. After we take care of one, we move on to the next. The life of the rich and sinful. The ultimate price that must be paid to get what you desire. It really all comes down to the heart of a person’s soul, asking it one simple question: Is the sin worth the price?”
    I can’t tell if he is joking or not, so I force a smirk in response.
    “We both know your answer,” he chuckles. “Ergo, why you’re here and that’s why I like you, brotha. No chains.”
    I nod to placate him.
    He laughs heartily, his green eyes trained intensely on mine. He grows serious. “But if you’re late again, I will swan-dive your flat butt right out that freakin’ window.”
    Raphael takes his cigar out of his mouth and puts it out on my desk. “I’m your new boss. I bought your company out today. This publishing company needs a restart. Needs a name. How can a multi billion dollar company such as this not have a name? I am off track. I tend to do that. Where was I? Ah! A refresher course on what works and what doesn’t, you feel me, boy?”
    He’s supposed to be my new boss?
    Raphael takes his finger and grazes my shaving scar. “Something’s off with you, but I can’t figure it out just yet. While I’m thinking about it, why don’t you pull up the book you been working on?”
    Unsure where to look, I try to remain calm as I flip through the folders on my desk for anything. Grabbing one, I hand it to Raphael.
    “This must be what ‘pretty well’ gets you,” Raphael says, opening the folder. He pulls out a blank page. “Still waiting,” he says, handing the folder back to me. I begin flipping through the other pages looking for anything resembling a body of work.
    This has to be a joke.
    Raphael leans against the desk, uncomfortably close, and pulls out another cigar. “All the long hours…I mean minutes, spent scribbling over what? Your garbage sees more action than you do.”
    I look over at the plentiful amount of crumbled up paper in my overflowing garbage can.
    He lights his second cigar of his visit and blows smoke in my face. Again. “What do you even do here? Write books, right? Like these on your shelves here?”
    I watch him go to my bookshelf. “These are yours, correct?”
    I nod.
    He opens each one of them up and immediately tosses them to the floor after going through one page. “Is this a joke?”
    He gives the book back to me to see it. I flip it open to find it blank. I flip through the empty pages wondering where all my words went. “Each book that I have tossed from your so called bookcase bares the exact similarities as this one here. Completely blank. You have any words to say about that? Because apparently you don’t have any to write.”
    He takes a book off the floor. “Do you remember what this one is