“The Truth”– fiction from “Difficult People”

Difficult People is an adult storybook of nearly 200 flash fictions that I want to publish here online in serial fashion for free. Maybe later an ebook and hard/soft book edition will come forth. Flash fictions are short short stories written improvisationally, the equivalent of short jazz pieces. Note the “adult” modifier in the title; some of the difficult people in these tales take us into erotic, raw and troubled zones. Read on and enjoy. I welcome reader responses. A hearty welcome to agents, book editors and publishers looking for new material.

Gracias.

 J.S.

==============================
Story 13

The Truth
 Shit it ain’t that hard. Doing time. Yeah, I’m a threat to society. I know that. I’ve done some bad stuff. Most of it the cops never knew. That girl that drowned in that heist. The water was too swift. I couldn’t be convicted of negligence. But I was a coward…she was underage and they woulda charged me with statutory, her father tried to shoot me right after her funeral. Came right up to the car, me at the wheel, and put a fuckin’ forty five slug in the door.

Thank God it was an old Lincoln, the kind with the backward doors, suicide doors they called them, bad habit of sucking grandmas and kids out the side, no seat belts, hell nobody wore seat belts. How stupid were we in those days?

But that poor girl’s father, he knew we’d been together that summer down in Texas near Corpus. She was maybe what? Fifteen? Pretty little thing, part Mexican, nice skin and a great set of boobs. She sure liked to fuck and she thought doing crimes with a jerk like me was the hots, already a two time loser with the state reformatory, already stabbed a couple of assholes, been cut too, that time in Piedras Negras outside that fuckin’ cantina…thought I’d bleed to death. Stomach wound, that was a sonofabitch to heal. To think back then I had a crazy sense of right and wrong, still gave a shit.

Can’t remember that girl’s name, part Mexican, something like Romona Alice or Roma Angel. Naw, that’s still not it. Terrible at names but I sure remember her face before the water took her down, she was dog paddling like a whirlwind, beating the water and that face looking at me to save her. I never saved nobody. Now that’s the truth.

===============================

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under fiction

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s