Thursday, May 21, 2009

J. Swift's Paris Travel Journal -- Part III

I walked into my hotel room and Natasha was waiting for me on the balcony. She had made me a scotch and soda:

"Is that an E-Meter in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?" she asked.

"I am as sensitive and sexy as Pan," I replied, "Lord help women when I begin to fondle them...."

"Shut up!" Natasha laughed as she handed me the drink.


Tonight would be all about Natasha. Bill was on his own as he wandered the streets of Paris in search of the secret key that would unlock the entire mystery of his wholetrack and the enigma of existence itself. The pale and angry ghost of L. Ron Hubbard, dragging its chains, would follow Bill and whisper to him....