that guy - Part 11


     Later she said, "thanks for saving me," .
That guy, he got a sliver of babe over the pink and purple range of swelling against his right eye. Words were right there, but his tongue and lips just quivered up nonsense.
Babe leaned over, her bed gave a nice bit.
"Is this what you do? Spend your time falling off the planet, mopping your blood about, and saving girls like me?"
"Whas rot nit," he said through the swelling, "Ron nuh rill in,"
"Kill him? you may have to anyhow." and babe told that guy the whole story. When she was done she leaned over and kissed him gently on the mountainous ruins of his eyes and lips. Before she kissed him again she paused, silently, and the look on her face was one of gladness, peace. That was a look that crawly could have profited from, in fact it could have been a game changer. Instead, that bit of eden, and the bit offered so gently within it was a gift for that guy, the one who really did save babe. Funny how these things work. If crawly had only.., but then again, if only that guy hadn't..,
Well, in real life there"s none of that. No looking back at ifs and uh-ohs. Its all tripping forward; and anyhow, so much work went into getting the whole thing as wrong and fucked-up as it could possibly get. Why would we undo all that just to make ourselves feel better by fixing a lousy situation? I’d rather not.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Souls of Beautiful Monsters - Lucy

“Turquoise? I can't even say the word without falling down. You want me to spell it?” “No, no. Just describe it.” “Describe turquoise? The color or the stone?” Lucy laughs and scratches her head. “Hmmm… I suppose it doesn't matter,” she says. Stephen twirls a finger around Lucy's bare foot then traces her toes gently before glancing up. “Hang on,“ he says, “it’s the same problem!” Stephen was fascinated by Lucy's ability to confound the simplest notions with an ease that surpassed the remarkable agility of her practical mind. It was what first sent shivers up his spine that first week in thesis for biomedical engineering.   Dr. Shirkfield, the startling young star professor, had asked for the students to share their topic concepts for the attendant research course. When no one took the bait, and an uncomfortable silence grew in the room, the young woman in the front of the class raised her hand and flopped it about. “Ah! One fearless target… I mean, stu...
Read more

Sweet Little Things - Part 2 (Horrible Marriages Collection)

Part 2         I braced myself for the attack. It was a ritual.        “King of the mountain! King of the mountain!”   I am the mountain. No one ever won that contest. The mountain tumbled every time.         They'd gotten as far as they could before I scooped them up and rolled them, elbows over giggles onto the soft, Persian  rug.         “Your getting slow, Lurch!” Squealed Simone.         “You're getting heavy!” I replied, honestly.         I was Lurch; from the Adams family. They found that unlikely association hilarious. Especially when I tried the voice.         After nuggies, a belch contest, and silly how-do-you-do, the girls composed themselves. I received a years worth of catch-up in a six-minute, stereophonic, high speed summary, which ended with four handed vote that my hairline had receded, and it was a sad state of...
Read more

The Hit (Horrible Marriages Collection)

        “It's not that I never liked him – I liked  him enough -  if it mattered anyhow, which it doesn't,” she hissed.         “I want him dead. I want it to hurt. I want him dead and then bring him back so you can kill him again, right away, right now…” The hit-man squinted. “That's twice the cash, even if I could… I'm no expert, but even if I could, it ain't right...” She smiled and the words sliced through clenched teeth, “You have no problem killing him once but..,” she said and shook her head.         Stupidity. Killers. Assholes. Dropouts – they make it look like something in the movies.  A hit man is a losers loser: Bad breath, bad manners, dirty, filthy, stupid third-grade dropouts. “Listen to me! Every week goes by I have to pay that schmuck to live, to breath, to exist in this world just to bust my ass and remind me of what a god damned fool I was in the very first god-...
Read more