Luda by Grant Morrison

Author:Grant Morrison [Morrison, Grant]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Worlds
Published: 2022-09-06T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

—

I’m going out—said Luda.

It was bad enough she’d disappeared for two hours after our contretemps. Now here she was framed in the doorway like Barbie in her cellophane display window, all stockings and heels, factory-fresh.

My response, when it came, came without words.

You can come if you want—she huffed, and I could tell she was praying I wouldn’t say yes, yes, I will come actually.

She could see I was nowhere near dressed and even if I had been ready, I was in no mood to face another overlit, exhausting late-summer night out with the same gaggle of queens and wannabes in one of Gasglow’s exactly three decent drag bars.

As if all that Saturnian, purple paternal solemnity had worked its way into the water supply, or more likely my vodka supply, I took one gander at Luda and—may God forgive me—uttered the phrase—

You can’t go out—the words escaping from my lips like madmen from the asylum, like nitrous from a can—not looking like that.

I know! I prided myself on a lifelong laissez-faire, devil-may-care broad-mindedness, but as this petulant, self-pitying squeal came out like piss strained through a straw, I already knew it was fully deserving of Luda’s merciless response.

Like you?—she said, supplying a brattish exclamation point with her stiff middle finger. I thought that’s what you wanted?

How about this then?

She pulled the dress open down the middle and threw it at me.

Let’s see how good you look in it!

Shrugging into a vinyl coat only accentuated the potential for immodesty once she’d pulled the belt tight around her enviably trim waist, hiking the hem up her thighs to flash her stocking tops.

Your arse is hanging out! I can see your tape!—I told her, resorting to peeved teacher tones. And that’s not all. Have some fucking style!

This is my style!—she spat. This is how I want to look! You think I’m going out looking like you to meet people my OWN AGE?

You’re the one who said age didn’t matter!—I reminded her, two rocks of ice in my tone.

Until you went ON AND FUCKING ON about it all the time!—she fired back.

And we were off at a gallop.

You’re not my fucking mother—Luda volleyed, as if the word were a tainted cherry she had to spit out.

I wouldn’t have you as a free gift in a raffle!—I struck back, conscious that I’d inflicted a wound much deeper than I expected.

All you do is stare at me—and—mirrors and—She went on and on like this, ramping up the incoherent abuse.

Until—If you can’t stand that you’re an old bag, if you can’t deal with it—she snarled. Do what all the other old bags do and get the fucking Botox you keep saying you don’t need!

You’ll need it before I do if you stay out every night drinking and taking drugs!—I announced from my personal pulpit. You can’t hide party eyes!

At least my face isn’t hanging off my skull like a fucking waxwork in an oven!

That’s enough!—I shrieked and that was the moment I finally cracked. Have some

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.