I
A picture from a hotel room can mean only one thing. Another surfing trip. 7 years ago, out of 365 days in the year, I spent 202 of them in roadside motels. I got rid of all habits. No one and nothing stuck to my skin. The only weight I feel now is a hangover from last night, which I don’t even remember. What will happen if I order that girl a drink, sit down, and say I’ve been looking for her all evening, even though we don’t know each other at all? A new story… will end like the old ones.

II
At least the sun is shining. What am I saying, it’s blazing! And to think that just yesterday, my life was neatly arranged. Dog, boyfriend, house. Yes, yes, the order is correct. I will miss Edmund, my Border Collie, who has been with me for the last 10 years of my uneventful life, more than Damian, whose only real advantage was that he always got up before me and made coffee. 47 missed calls. Does he really think I’ll go back to him? The only thing I’m missing right now is a cold drink.

III
She won’t slip away this time. And to think they’re offering £100,000 for her capture. She seems so unassuming, yet she’s got quite a record. Gun smuggling, two bank robberies, one murder. In my opinion, accidental, but that doesn’t matter now. I’ll go downstairs, draw my gun, aim at her, and if she tries to resist, I’ll shoot.

IV
God, how I hate her. It was her idea to come here. Supposedly to get some fresh air, think about what’s next? What’s next? Nothing, nothing will change! She’s lying there like some queen, sunbathing, while I’m stuck on “home office” from 7:00 to 16:00 because who else will earn the money? In an hour, she’ll come back to the room not to ask how I’m doing, but to grab a new towel and ask me to rub sunscreen on her back. My life in a nutshell for the last 15 years.