Jack Vettriano Night Geometry

Jack Vettriano Night GeometryJack Vettriano long time GoneJack Vettriano Lazy Hazy Days
bedroom.” They went off in Jack’s truck, bought a bottle of whiskey and within twenty minutes were in the Motel Siesta jouncing a bed. A few handfuls of hail rattled against the window followed by rain and slippery wind banging the unsecured door of the next room then and through the night.
The room stank of semen and . “Four years. I about give up on you. I figured you was sore about that punch.” “Friend,” said Jack, “I was in Texas rodeoin. How I met Lureen.
Look over on that chair.”
On the back of the soiled orange chair he saw the shine of a buckle.
“Bullridin?”
“Yeah. I made three f*ckin thousand dollars that year. f*ckin starved. Had to borrow everthing but a toothbrush smoke and sweat and whiskey, of old carpet and sour hay, saddle leather, sh*t and cheap soap. Ennis lay spread-eagled, spent and wet, breathing deep, still half tumescent, Jack blowing forceful cigarette clouds like whale spouts, and Jack said, “Christ, it got a be all that time a yours ahorseback makes it so goddamn good. We got to talk about this. Swear to god I didn’t know we was goin a get into this again—yeah, I did. Why I’m here. I f*ckin knew it. Redlined all the way, couldn’t get here fast enough.”“I didn’t know where in the hell you was,” said Ennis