I’ve been doing a lot of digging. Excavating really. It’s mostly tied to the spiritual aspects of my life, until today. I found an early first draft of a story that has been in the making for almost two years now.
I decided to salvage a bit here and there and finally throw away the dusty stack. At the moment, I am fifteen pages in the stack and almost four written pages of notes. I fell for pieces that I thought I was done with. We had broken up a good year ago. But here it all was, waiting to pounce and draw me back in with teeth.
Sit back, grab your wine and enjoy this little slice…
Complete darkness greets him apart from the neon lights blaring another across the room. He quickly recognizes her slumped in a nearby booth. Shayna, a long-legged woman known for her Donkey Punches, calls out to him.
“Did you hear that Cody was found dead last night? They say he OD’d right outside his own house. Fucking crazy..”
One less fuck that he will have to pick off the streets.
“So she’s ready to go?” He nods to the woman, smelling of strong urine and pickles. “You better not puke or shit in my van on the way home,” he mumbles. He calls her name loudly.
The woman shifts towards his voice and stink rises to grip his throat. Inside, Betty falls to the side, showing her grey flesh.
“Where am I taking you? Her eyes close.
“HEY!” He screams now that they are in his cab.
“Take me home,” she mumbles.
A sound like creaking, snapping steel goes off in his mind.