para que mis enemigos tenham olhos, et nao me vejam

the letter i got contained mostly scraps of paper ripped from an in-flight magazine. i went to the guy's office for the seventh time and he wasn't there. the office is nearby, though. last night there was no water and someone was in the bathroom vomiting. i had consulted with the people in the kitchen who said i shouldn't put chicken in the soup because they wanted to eat "sooner, rather than later," then noted that they were just peeling the potatoes and hadn't even put on water to boil so really i had a good thirty minutes before the time when the chicken would have gone in. i thought that i would kill the chicken but only if my own body was clean. i would shave also. it didn't take until i was naked under the shower head to remember that there was no water, but it was after i decided on the killing plan. i just went to bed and the water was back on in the morning so i had a shower and shaved, but the chicken is still alive. people are painting the compound so it's been eating chips of scraped paint.