Saturday, October 15, 2005

Now they want a short story,

that says, wait till I get my hands on you; I don't do murd“Just wait till I get my hands on you” I still can hear it. It’s echoing in my mind, right this very minute. I just didn’t think she meant it. No I didn’t think it possible.Turning the corner from the parking lot, I see the car. Its still parked there, the black Limo. I wonder how long before the cops figure it out. He ain’t coming back. It might be a few days before, well they smell it. I won’t think of that right now.The sky is clouding up, looks like rain. Darker and darker the clouds swirling above me, ominous puffs of a storm still to come. Better than the storm I am leaving behind me. I fumble with the key, it seems to have a mind of its own. I feel it turning and finally hear the click of the tumblers. Inside it dark, a pile of smelly dirty clothes sitting in the middle of the floor. The odor is horrendous, but I add to the pile as I drop my bloody shirt atop it all. I guess in my mind I realize, it doesn’t matter, no one will ever see it. The shower stall is coated with lime deposits, long past cleaning, another one of my procrastinations. It doesn’t matter now, no not at all. I can feel the hot water slowly form a fog around me, brutishly scrubbing the awful stench from me. I know its of no avail, nothing can ever remove it, not the strongest soap. Nothing.I hurriedly put on fresh pants and a shirt, the night is still young. I gathered up what few valuables I had, wadded the paper bag closed and dumped the trash out over the dirty clothes pile. Then I slowly emptied the container of aftershave on top it all, raising pieces to be sure and saturate them all. I watched as the flame from the candle gentle licked at the fluid, no not yet, I thought to myself. It had to be slow, to gently burn and then consume it all. No evidence could remain, no none.I left the light on in the kitchen, it would hide the small fire as it grew to life. Avoiding suspicion until too late. That should be it now, within a few hours all the evidence will all be gone.The bar was fairly alive with people. I found a small corner seat and ordered a boilermaker. The waitress smiled at me as she sat it in front of me. I watched her. She might be a good person to play with tonight.
. Slowly the bar emptied, it was almost two now. I could hear sirens in the distance, I knew the plan was working, all the evidence would be burned by now. . I would win this one for sure. Nothing to link me to him. Nothing at all would remain.The waitress flicked the light switch, signaling closing time. I paid for my drinks and smiled at her. She waved after me, a smile crossing her tired face. I waited, the game was about to begin again. I watched her as she locked the door and slowly walked towards her locked vehicle. Her hands fumbled for the keys, I heard them hit the ground. It was time.“Mam, can I help? I can see your having a bit of problems tonight. Here I’ll get them for you.”I’ll never forget it, never if I live to see parole. It was the eyes, black like the pits of Hades. The smile, short and evil, no longer the pretty woman from just a moment ago. It was evil, no other words to describe it. Nothing. That was all I can remember. Two punctures in my neck, comatose here on the street until the squad car pulled up. All I know officer is if I confess, tell the truth, you’ll have to protect me from her. You’ll have to! The last thing I remember are those words! “Wait till I get my hands on you!”ers well but..

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