waxwing.tv
Fingertips gliding along the blade of a knife, I stared at the empty space occupying the chair sitting in front of me. Two…
Door’s open. Saved myself a bullet.
I plow my way inside, prompting the juvenile banshee screams of one of Gomorrah’s rent-a-whores sprawled over the sofa. And there’s my little buddy…
I can feel it crawling along the sides of my tongue, creeping up from the hollow of my throat. The coals smolder under my nose, wafting the remnants of its thick smoke through the tunnels of my nostrils. I’ve been here for so long…
“Are you really sure it’s-”
“But what if she-?”
The voice fades in and out, its words smeared by the swollen roar inside my head. They slip and slide, tiny little creatures…