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| (visual by kempsternyc via this license) |
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dispatch four
Novelty by Mike Boyle
debuted 15 May 2009 | kept 597 times | click to keep
Horace saw her trudging to the bus stop and heard pre-dawn things: the train rolling down the tracks four blocks away, ambient crickets. He looked further, to the east–just above her head, some light. He was about to say the sun follows you when he saw a fresh bruise on her eye.
“That’s gonna go black,” he said.
“I’m living a cartoon,” April said.
The highway ran by the tracks. You could hear it. A long moan.
“Just gimme the word,” he told her, not the first time.
“No. Thanks but no. We’ll work it out. He said he was sorry.”
She produced a pipe from her purse, placed weed in the bowl, and lit it. “Want some?”
“No.”
“Here, you want some.”
He took a hit and said, “Here they come.” Who knew where they came from or who they were? She was the only person he talked to at the bus stop.
When the bus came, they boarded and sat together.