by Mark Reep
A dumpster blocked my driveway. My black sofa stuck up. They'd seen the zippers, slit the cushions anyway. The deputy who broke down the door was a hard-on. He flipped through a book of poems Ani'd given me. Nothing fell out so he tore it in two. I said his mama must notta read to this one and one of the older cops laughed and he hit me. Four days later my lawyer told me Ani'd narced me out the night she left. Only those you trust can betray you. All the windows were open, I could smell the Kilz.
7
favs |
1229 views
11 comments |
104 words
All rights reserved. |
Another micro from the String Money sequence. Published in amphibi.us.
This story has no tags.
brilliant economy of words, a powerhouse piece.
I like the compression and the force of the phrasing in this. Nice work.
*
excellent voice. *
Strong stuff. Peace *
Love that it was a poetry book. Also totally agree with what Sam said.
Thanks, guys. Much appreciated.
"...seen the zippers, slit the cushions anyway."
Don't you just love it when they narc you out as they're walkin' out the door?
This piece defines the words, "Love is just a four letter word."
Loved it, though. Reminded me of Cleveland on a snow day.
Great character, language and voice here.
James, Isabell- Thanks!
Like what you do here. Brief story of violence. The brevity adds to the punch. Good series, maybe. *