FICTION, YOU KNOW, VIGNETTES PART TWO

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Vignette part deux
Current mood: depressed
Category: Writing and Poetry

She pulls away from the curb and spins the tires because she thinks it’s a movie. I finish my smoke and flick it. I don’t give a mad fuck what season it is.

She speeds and I like it.

We end up at the Daily Grill across from the airport.

The air in here is cool but more green than blue.

She orders a Pinot Grigio and me a Saphire on ice because I don’t know the bartender can make a martini.

So far she’s kinda pissy and elusive. I really don’t care, but I’m hoping to go back to the office with at least a toothless grin. Her dress is tight and the table is a shelf for her rack.

I ask about her kid. She doesn’t say much that I hear.

I think to myself that she really is kind of a bitch and she reaches for my hand.

The drinks arrive and we disengage to take a swallow.

Were in a booth, and we’ve both by habit scooted towards the wall.

A big guy shows up at the end of the table, he’s not wearing an apron, and he blocks out the sun.

He slides in next to me and he’s fucking huge. He says, I need ya ta gimme back what she gave ya.

I left it on my desk, I say.

I look across at her and see chrome coming at me out of the corner of my right eye.

She looks at me like, sorry.

I wake up in the trunk of a car that’s going goddamn fucking fast.

Leave a Reply

Get more stuff like this
in your inbox

Subscribe to our mailing list and get interesting stuff and updates to your email inbox.

Thank you for subscribing.

Something went wrong.

Feed Subscriber count

Recent Comments
Archives