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About Half Way Tree

Dunno why, but I’m drawn to ‘em – maybe ‘cos I’m a grubby sod meself. Burnin’ charcoal, black hands, lonely nights. “Fear’s creepin’ in,” I thinks, wonderin’ if they’d even glance at me. But one did! Winked, even – heart went thump, precious! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but felt like she saw me soul. Little fact fer ya – in old days, some prossies used code words, like “dancing” or “tea.” Sneaky, eh? Kept the coppers guessin’.

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But then, just when I think it’s smooth sailing, Karen’s back. She’s like, “I want my drink fixed!” I’m like, “Lady, it’s dark! I can’t see!” But she’s relentless. I finally just give her a shot of rum and say, “Here, this’ll fix ya!” She takes it and, surprise, surprise, she’s suddenly all smiles.

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