He walked out on the wet-grime asphalt, pulling his coat collar tight and cupping his smoke. Stood still with an inhale. He looked both ways down the street. One way he could see the half-lit sign of the bus station. It was calling him.
Telling him somewhere in the back of his mind that it didn't have to go the way it was gonna go. Just stroll that way. But then he rubbed his stumble and saw the flicker and flash of his Rita dying, along with a 1000 other memories. He saw the blood vine across the grainy wall. Then the furnace in his heart lit up again.
He looked down the other way. At the den of snakes. In the Devil Room. His teeth mashed. His face become a visage of hate.
No, the bus would have to pull out without him. There was no escape...not for him or those soon to be dead sonsabitches.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
1. A KAMIKAZE IN A HOLDING PATTERN
Lenny spun the chamber on Janis again- with every whizzing roll another memory would claw and scrape at his brain, make him mash his teeth around the filter of his Camel. He rubbed his stubble and stared at Fred Williamson. He flickered across the screen, shotgunning bullets into everyone in the room. The blood sprawled like vines across the grainy walls and Fred was feeling righteous with every death.
Lenny knew what Fred felt like. He wanted to feel that.
A homeless guy sitting three roles down was giggling with every crack of Fred’s pistol. Every time a shot rang out heralding a bad guy’s violent demise, the guy would tilt his head back and cackle. His brittle set of teeth would chatter in sync with the barrage of gunfire. He smelled like a jar of piss. Lenny didn't like him. But there was a lot of people he didn't like.
Lenny took a deep breath and dropped his Camel to the dirty floor of the theater. He slid Janis in his coat pocket. He stood and crushed the sticky smoke under his foot. The homeless looked back as to say 'hey the movie ain't over.' But Lenny knew it was time to go. He had a long night ahead of him.
Because tonight...tonight a whole lot of goddam people were gonna die. Blood would run, corpses would compile, spent shells would rain.
Tonight, Lenny was gonna give Hell the need for a Please Wait to Be Seated sign...
Lenny knew what Fred felt like. He wanted to feel that.
A homeless guy sitting three roles down was giggling with every crack of Fred’s pistol. Every time a shot rang out heralding a bad guy’s violent demise, the guy would tilt his head back and cackle. His brittle set of teeth would chatter in sync with the barrage of gunfire. He smelled like a jar of piss. Lenny didn't like him. But there was a lot of people he didn't like.
Lenny took a deep breath and dropped his Camel to the dirty floor of the theater. He slid Janis in his coat pocket. He stood and crushed the sticky smoke under his foot. The homeless looked back as to say 'hey the movie ain't over.' But Lenny knew it was time to go. He had a long night ahead of him.
Because tonight...tonight a whole lot of goddam people were gonna die. Blood would run, corpses would compile, spent shells would rain.
Tonight, Lenny was gonna give Hell the need for a Please Wait to Be Seated sign...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
