“Hope you can hear them all in there, pops. I tilt my head toward the cloudless night sky and take a drag of my cigarette. I bet if there is an afterlife, he’s up there all pissed-off that he’s missing out on his party. I look through the big glass window where a sea of heads bob and sway along to the music. “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns-N-Roses is blaring through the speakers along with the sound of boisterous laughter. Then again, none of the other women I’ve fucked were MY woman.īelly’s funeral is still chugging along full-steam ahead inside the house.
It has never, ever felt as fucking good to be inside a woman the way it did to be inside Tricks. What we just experienced together was next level shit. Fucking souls if I believed in that kind of shit. It was like we were fucking with more than just our bodies. I went at her like a wild fucking boar, rutting into her, forcing her back against the cold hard wall of the marine stadium. Taking her for the first time…my cock swells at the thought.
There is an exception in all this, and I waited five and a half years to find her. Being the only kid waiting on the front curb after school resulted in me walking home and later stumbling upon my mother’s still running car, her body slumped over the wheel. Waiting for Digger at BB’s Bar resulted in attending his funeral a few days later. Waiting for a delivery only to find out it’d been hijacked. Waiting too long to pull a trigger resulted in the first time I was shot. My past experiences with waiting have ended in disappointment or tragedy. The plan was to leave separately so we aren’t spotted together, but I’m rethinking that plan more and more and the seconds continue to tick. She’ll be walking up the path back from the marine stadium any second now. Even with no breeze to carry it, my nostrils burn as I breathe in the putrid sulfur scent wafting off of the mangroves just beyond the trees.Ĭloaked in the shadows of the deepest corner of the backyard, I’m waiting and watching for Tricks. “Who hears me, who understands me, becomes mine, a possession for all time.” -Ralph Waldo Emersonġ the state of having, owning, or controlling something. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.Įdits: Karla Nellenbach, Last Word Editing & Ellie McLove, Love-N-Books
Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, except brief quotes used for reviews and certain other non commercial uses, as per copyright laws. 2: Score on the safe cities scale (100 being the safest)Īll rights reserved.
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