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March 29, 2007

3.29.07

But why is all the rum gone?

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The Last Straw… or Bev-Nap, or Stir Stik, or little Sword with Olives:

She looked at him, wondered why she’d stayed, and pasted on a smile. She was afraid, afraid of him, again.

He stumbled, (he’d had a hell of a swagger when they’d met), but now, he stumbled, toward her.

She feigned “not now baby”, guiding him as he fell forward, and into the recliner.

‘All is well…, if he stays there,’ she thought.

“Give me some lovin’ baby,” it sounded like a vomit. “Bring me a rum n’coke, sugar, let’s party, me n’you.”

No coke, just rum, and blood, as the bottle smashed against his temple. “He knew better!” she heaved.

Posted by: kasac at March 29, 2007 4:32 PM · Permalink