Low black clouds gather
and tower one upon the other
lightning flashes flicker on the edge of sight
the wind rises to a banshee’s scream
and tears the leaves and limbs from trees
the deluge begins
a biblical alluvion
to wash away all sins.
And yet I stand here dry
in this arid, torrid air
with heat-cracked lips
and parched-dry throat
alone, on this sun-scorched knoll
and look with lust and longing
at rain that will never dampen
the desolate desert of my soul.
‘They’ll find you eventually,’ she said.
Headlights flooded the car’s interior.
‘I think you mean now.’
The woman turned. The car behind them accelerated.
‘Floor it, she said. ‘We can still make it.’
The Stranger shook his head.
Another car blocked the road ahead.
‘Or maybe we should stop running,’ he said. “You wanted everything.’
She handed him a gun.
‘After seven years of marriage to you, I deserved everything.’
She lit the envelope and left it on the seat. They stood back-to-back in the street.
‘We’ve never been so close,’ he said.
She smiled, then the shooting started.
The end.
If you haven’t read the previous episodes, you can find them here:
The lights of the all-night petrol station flashed by.
Her car was no longer following. He thought she’d stopped for gas.
The cops drove on.
His days of collecting for The Mob were over. So were hers. And now she wanted his cut.
He parked outside his apartment, raced in and took the envelope. And the ammunition.
Back outside, he scanned the street. Nothing. Relieved, he slid into the driver’s seat, key in hand. Cold steel touched the back of his head.
The woman’s voice was low.
‘Just take it slowly. Give me the gun, the envelope. And drive.’
If you haven’t read the previous episodes, you can find them here:
The Stranger looked in the rearview mirror. She was still there, two cars back, holding her place. Biding her time.
He wondered when—or if—she’d make her move.
The car behind him passed under the streetlights. His stomach knotted.
Two silhouettes, two hats, two lit cigarettes. Cops.
He understood why she was holding back.
The cops were laughing. Relaxed. They weren’t tailing him. At least, he didn’t think so. But maybe she did.
If he stayed here, he couldn’t get the money. If he made a move, so would she.
Did she know these streets like he did?
If you haven’t read the previous episodes, you can find them here:
My Words, My World 