Thread
08-10-2019, 09:47 PM
What will happen to me?
a short story by Dale Robinson
"Just tie it off, wrap it around and slide your back down the wall."
His voice seemed to belong to that of a stranger. It frightened him. He felt his face with his hands and thought of his mother and father; "Momma, please. Momma."
"I told you not to come back, didn't I?" He scalded himself. "I told, you, I told you, I told you." For the third time already since he'd woken from another sleepless night the tears threatened. At first when they'd locked him away the tears relieved the worry, even fueled hope of a chance, an opportunity to escape, one that he would not recklessly play with as he'd done..."I'm innocent. No way they can hold me." Deep in his gut, down in the middle of that tireless knot he was sure he'd get one last moment after he cajoled freedom where he could make his disappearance into the landscape of the world. "It's been done."
He-was-wrong. The judge saw through him, try as he could to smooth his countenance, stall the ravage beating of heart. The judge knew.
"I can't do this, God. Please, understand, God. I can't do it. I, I, I'm not strong enough."
He'd timed the guard, about every 30 minutes, give or take. "You got half that left."
Q: "What will happen to me?"
A: "They'll handle you, touch you, examine you."
"Oh, my, God, momma. Please."
"I told you to stay gone, goddamn you."
Q: "What will happen to me?"
A: "You'll have to explain it when you get there."
"I don't want to burn in hell."
"Stay then."
"You'll have to wait another round if you don't get started."
He tied it off, wrapped it around,,,tight & pushed his back up against the wall.
The tears fell as he slid down.
---The End---
a short story by Dale Robinson
"Just tie it off, wrap it around and slide your back down the wall."
His voice seemed to belong to that of a stranger. It frightened him. He felt his face with his hands and thought of his mother and father; "Momma, please. Momma."
"I told you not to come back, didn't I?" He scalded himself. "I told, you, I told you, I told you." For the third time already since he'd woken from another sleepless night the tears threatened. At first when they'd locked him away the tears relieved the worry, even fueled hope of a chance, an opportunity to escape, one that he would not recklessly play with as he'd done..."I'm innocent. No way they can hold me." Deep in his gut, down in the middle of that tireless knot he was sure he'd get one last moment after he cajoled freedom where he could make his disappearance into the landscape of the world. "It's been done."
He-was-wrong. The judge saw through him, try as he could to smooth his countenance, stall the ravage beating of heart. The judge knew.
"I can't do this, God. Please, understand, God. I can't do it. I, I, I'm not strong enough."
He'd timed the guard, about every 30 minutes, give or take. "You got half that left."
Q: "What will happen to me?"
A: "They'll handle you, touch you, examine you."
"Oh, my, God, momma. Please."
"I told you to stay gone, goddamn you."
Q: "What will happen to me?"
A: "You'll have to explain it when you get there."
"I don't want to burn in hell."
"Stay then."
"You'll have to wait another round if you don't get started."
He tied it off, wrapped it around,,,tight & pushed his back up against the wall.
The tears fell as he slid down.
---The End---