Frida Kahlo Thinking about Death

Frida Kahlo Thinking about DeathFrida Kahlo The Suicide of Dorothy HaleFrida Kahlo Sun and Life
remembered himself and added, ‘No offence meant.’
‘Oh.’
‘I’ll be moving along, then,’ said the sergeant.
‘Fine. Fine.’,’ he said.
‘Bad news?’ said the sergeant.
‘That depends,’ said Windle, ‘on your point of view.’
‘Oh. Right. Fine. Well . . . good night, then.’
‘Goodbye.’
Sergeant Colon hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged and strolled on.
As he wandered away, the shadow behind him moved and grinned.
WINDLE POONS?
Windle didn’t look around.
‘‘That ch- oh, he’s gone. Tall chap. Bit odd-looking.’
Windle unfolded the scrap of paper, on which was written:
OOoooEeeeOooEeeeOOOeee.Are you all right, Mr Poons?’‘Fine. Fine.’‘Not going to throw yourself in the river again?’‘No.’‘Sure?’‘Yes.’‘Oh. Well. Good night, then.’ He hesitated. ‘Forget my own head next,’ he said. ‘Chap over there asked me to give this to you.’ He held out a grubby envelope.Windle peered into the mists.‘What chap?’