Four in the Morning

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I couldn’t sleep so I did some free-form writing. Apologies for any possible grammar mistakes or typos, it’s nearing three o’clock in the morning for me. I’ve been having these vampire dreams lately so thought I’d put those brain areas to work, so to speak. Enjoy!
Four in the Morning
I wipe at my mouth with the cuff of my jet-black coat as I glance over my shoulder and at the sedated four-in-the-morning city, the sight of all the locked doors and windows making me chuckle like an idiot. She is limping away, that rat, but I need not even look at her one yard per hour pace as she stumbles on invisible rocks and crevices on the fresh asphalt. Had I been in luck it would still have been hot enough for her tiny feet to sink into and stick and voilá I’d have had the perfect headboard puppet and a three square-mile area of closed down business properties to play with her in. 
Grinning profusely at my fantasy I kneel down to fish a rubber band from my boot to tie my hair up, humming a tune I’d hear in the elevator going upstairs; some shitty all-piano cover of a Westlife or Backstreet Boys song, which, if I remember correctly, also was a cover of some other great artist of the 20th century music industry. 
“Not going anywhere are we?” I say in mid-laughter as I straighten my shirt and sides of my coat. “This matches my jeans perfectly, you know. I bought it just for you, lady. Today. The cashier gave me a bad look,” I pause, analyzing my meal. “Let’s not make this into a row and stay nice and calm, how does that sound to you?”
Oh but she keeps on limping, the little rodent, paws halfway in the air as if I’m going to shoot a bullet through her disease-infested torso. Why do all the pretty ones always have a terminal illness?
“Come along, darling,” I sing out into the alley. “It’s a dead-end, sweetie, you won’t get anywhere with that foot of yours. That’s what happens when you use a plastic bag as a parachute.”
I walk to her, slowly, scanning my way up her lower limbs as I drum my fingertips along my upper thighs. Such a pretty one all bruised up. I reach my hand out to her neck only to have it slapped away angrily, followed by something resembling a gnarl. “Fuck off, you freak.”
“Freak? Honey, I’m not the one with the rodent legs here. It’s like you walked through a cheese-grater.” I reach my hand out again, expertly evading her angry paw. I stroke her dirtied hair, smoothing some of the gravel away. 
I shush her as she squeals, the poor thing.
The sky, turning gray from the growing exhaust fumes of the early morning, greets me with a cloudless grin as I stare upward from the shade of the brick wall, yawning. It’s been a long night. With a smile on my face I grab her neck with both hands, turning her spine diagonally to the left as I lean down, breathing in the scent of the filth I am about to call dinner. I guess that’s what you get when you sleep in. I brush the length of my tongue along her carotid artery, moisturizing the skin before taking a bite, swearing inwardly from the disgusting taste of near putrid flesh. I spit the gummy piece aside before digging in, tongue in a swirl so as not to taste anything else except the warm, red blood coating the insides of my cheeks.


2 kommenttia artikkeliin ”Four in the Morning

  1. I love a little horror and the dark side and I'm guaranteed it here! Great writing exercise! I linked it up for you – sorry it wasn't working earlier ?? Anyway, regarding the co-hosting business – please do email me regarding your thoughts on that. I could pop you on next week if you like? Let me know. Shah. X



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