This is my psychiatrist's couch. Take from it what you will.
But do leave a note.
I still am a late middle aged former government worker marking time until the cliff.
Short Fiction, Doggerel and Insensitive Opinion are spoken here.
Every time you comment, an angel gets its wings. If you like what you see, please follow and share.
Friday, September 19, 2014
Sweat (Blogophilia 30.7)
Sweat poured down Jeremy’s face as he waited for the light. That
was too close. This was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance trip to make
sure the complex would work. Not in his wildest dreams did he think he was
going to run into that bastard. And damned if it wasn’t the exact scenario he
was thinking of, a body next to a car with the Fuzz all around. The only thing
missing was the bomb.
The light changed and he gingerly made the left hand turn,
looking in the rear view to see if any cops had followed him out of the complex.Satisfied they hadn’t, he picked up speed
down the entrance ramp. A tractor trailer truck blew at him for drifting into
He picked up an old tissue of the console and wiped his
receding hairline. It really was to close. Murray really hadn’t changed much, a
little heavier and more lines on his snout. But the beady little eyes were
still there, the ones that locked into him for that brief second.Did he recognize him? He couldn’t be sure. It
did look like some kind of light went on, though. Just like with Sarah, there
always was something keeping him from his goal. His face began to warm with
Focus. He needed to come back to focus.He kept to the right hand lane and exited on
to I-285 toward 3 Sheets and cold scotch. And if Murray actually remembered,
the bar was two counties away.Benny
will give him his drink and leave him alone to sort this new wrinkle.
Jeremy knew that every caterpillar had to struggle to change
in to a butterfly. So, he’ll struggle and change the plan a bit.
Jeremy didn’t get a good look at the victim; he had just
gotten there when the first patrol cars pulled in. All he could see was the
lump on the sidewalk, just beyond the old Buick. Watching the proceedings from
inside the car, he noticed one officer was talking to a small Asian man making
animated gestures. Jeremy guessed he had found the body. He was one that talked with his hands. Up,
down, right and left the small brown hands went.A lit cigarette was dangling out of his
mouth.He reminded him of an old street
thug from a black and white movie.“It
wasn’t me, Officer.” Yeah, right.
Jeremy began taking notes.
The other uniformed guy started rolling out the scene tape,
just like they do on T.V.Stepping out a
few paces he secured one end on a No Parking sign, and the traced around until
he had an area about forty feet across inside the perimeter.After that was finished, he came up to his
partner and was then directed to another group of people gathered near the
front of Jeremy’s car.One by one, the
crowd indicated they didn’t know anything about the body. A few of them walked
away without speaking at all.
More patrol cars arrived. A Sergeant with a large sleeve
tattoo began to supervise the proceedings. He took over the interview with the
Asian and sent the patrol officer to look around the car. The stage was being
set. More information than Jeremy could have ever hoped for.
And then he looked up and saw Murray and his stomach turned
to knots. He was on the other side of the Sergeant chatting when his eyes
caught the car. He wished the car had shades pulled down low. How long had it
been, really? Ten years? It didn’t matter, he left hoping they were too busy to
So where was Jackson?He didn’t see him there.That
doesn’t matter, though. Even if they aren’t working together, getting Murray
will be enough.
Pulling off the Roswell Rd exit, he began to smile. The pain’s
coming and everything will be alright.
Pic Guesses: Dog and Butterfly, Former ugly ducklings, Fly away, Metamorphosis, Swan Song,