Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Lavelle. He believed he had all the answers. Heaven and hell and god and why we’re here on earth all wrapped up pretty in a white bible with Lord, our Savior embossed in gold on the cover. Delorez loved her younger brother, but couldn’t swallow his preaching, even if it came with a side of pasta and cheese.
“There’s something going down across the way--talk to you soon.” She rang off, turned over the ignition, and punched the button of the air-conditioner. Just to let it run a few minutes and clear the fetid air of this p.o.s. car. She tapped her fingernails on the dash while her mind ran over plans for the evening. Nothing too special. Drive home to her apartment. Unlock the door with one hand while her other hand reached back and unsnapped the hooks on her bra. Whip it off the minute the door shut behind her and feel a brief moment of freedom. Walk directly to the refrigerator. Stand in its coldness and stare at its well-stocked shelves. Pick out the leftover cheesecake. Turn on the stereo and listen to Morris Day from The Time wail, “You don’t gots to go home, but you’ve gots to get the hell out of here--” while she ate standing up using her fingers as utensils.
“Dammit.” She snapped off the engine and picked up the binoculars again.
Posted by Blue Heron at 1:08 PM
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
great job, Carrie!
oh itz dem boysagain!!!
Post a Comment