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“Look if ya’ll really wanna know what’re ya gonna look like in the future -”, the pause hung over the handful of teens. “Check out your Mom,” exasperated groans and whines filled the lobby of the housing complex. One of the five girls cast a wicked glance at the quiest of the group, then chimed, “yeah, naked.” The groans turned to sour squeals and furious head shaking. The quiet one gave no such reaction, her demeanor never changing no matter the adolescent outburst. “C’mon, you there, how come you ain’t laughin’? You saw your mum outta her skivvies or what?” Lina’s expression broke, she looked up from the graffiti’d table top and spoke, “there’s not a man on this block that ain’t seen my Mother in some stage of undress.” The girls murmured and squirmed at the once silent one’s address. The levity now gone, the group slowly disbanded for the day leaving Lina alone with the table and the quiet. Visions of her Mother played across her mind’s eye. Her swaying and promendading coincided with the beating of her heart.
Anthology Two Presents… Ouside the repurposed hotel leaned a solemn figure. His worn leather jacket bleached and cracked by the ravages of the Sun. It hung loosely from his gaunt frame, the material thinning enough to press against his sides with the blowing of the dry winds, revealing the details of his starved form. He scratched his chin knocking grit and ash free from the crag of a long healed scar. The debris collected during his hours spent shifting his weight from foot to foot whilst sharing nicotine-aged smiles with whatever sweet young things that happened past. Once handsome, the confidence he exuded was all that was left, but an echo of his physical charms. Sometimes it was enough to catch their attention and from the moment words escaped the dry rasp of his tongue they were his for the taking. Four such morsels ambled past, but to no avail. As always, patience was his lone virtue. Stained fingers fished into an inner pocket. His veined hand producing a hand-rolled sage and clove cigarette. The first lungful burned with regret. Once the taste and psychological longing passed he could usually shake a cough punctuated chuckle free with the schoolboy memory of dealing baggies of pencil shavings to friend and enemy alike. The chuckle and memory died out at the sound of careful plodding. The lobby doors creaked open ever so slowly and with that the figure combed his fingers through his greasy, dust covered hair. With a slam the girl came into view. Green eyes, thin lips, purple highlights in a shock of dark brown hair, his graying eyes sampled her features. He opened his mouth, as she trudged past him, but what he let pass for a cigarette bobbed on his lower lip. The plume of smoke snaked about her and danced in her wake. The girl came to an abrupt halt. “You’ve been hangin’ around out here for the last few days”, she spoke. The older man shut his jaw with an audible click and kept quiet. “Don’t know whatcha want-”, Lina turned and faced the haggard stranger. “But all you gonna find is trouble, thats all there is in this district.” A deep cough rumbled forth from his chest, and all that he gave the girl in response. The sickly old man routine did nothing for her. ‘Fine’ , he thought. “I’m not from these parts.” “Clearly.” “Spunky, I like that. What’s your name?” “I don’t got the time for this.” “Well you stopped. Now you talkin’ to me.” Lina’s eyes narrowed in response, her lips drawn paper thin. “Sorry, I’m being rude”, he extended a hand towards her. Cocking an eyebrow at him, she took a step back. Not wanting to scare the girl off, he swiftly aborted the handshake and tucked his arm against himself and bowed. “I’m Magenta”, he stated, “Magenta the Magician.” “Again, I don’t have the time, sir. Pulse (aka Octane) video Mrs. Harris hd download Thick as Thieves dvd ” The added emphasis on the ’sir’ stung the one time lothario. “What? Don’t need any more mysteries in your life?” “No, I know names have power. Its why you use that- that stage name and why you ain’t gettin’ mine.” Magenta took a long drag on his make shift smoke before flicking the horrid thing to the craggy ruins of the street. “Great,” he exhaled along with the smoke. *** The sky was stretches of blue and mottled orange by the time Lina returned to the complex. With the stranger nowhere in sight, she pushed past the usual dregs that collected in front of the double doors to her current home. The vast, once posh lobby was tittering with middle-aged burnouts, working girls little older than herself, potential clients, and others that were or passed for residents. The musty odors of bodily functions, stagnant water, and decaying wooden fixtures gave way to a sifled sneeze as she made for the nearest elevator bank. One of the cars was open and inside a stack of reinforced plastic food crates, long emptied, created a platform leading to the maintenance hatch in the ceiling of the metal box. The elevator shaft itself housed an access ladder that scaled all 21 floors of the building beyond the lobby. The stairs, a once obvious choice to get to the upper floors, were now little more than a haven for refuse and the addicted. Once she squeezed her head and shoulders past the opening the usual greeting echoed through the vertical abyss, “Hello, girlie. Cold in here ya think?” The building’s assigned District Security Agent got up from his reinforced crate turned chair, his gaze lingered on the girl’s chest as he helped her through the hatch. “Its always cold in here”, she punctuated this by crossing her arms upon righting herself, obstructing his view. “So, you’re Mother gettin’ ready for the night?” “Yeah, proly.” “Good, good. Tell her I can’t wait to see her after my shift.” “You and every other guy in the district.” Lina didn’t wait for the angry command to ‘move on’. “Sheila?”, the girl calls out as she opens the door to her Mother’s adjoining room. Kneeling on the floor deep into silent meditation sat Sheila Torrance. The picture of health, covered in but a threadbare robe, seemingly frozen in her prime. Much like her daughter her fair skin set off her dark brown hair, albeit it was pinned up by make shift bobby pins. The thirty-five year old Mother looked neither middle-aged nor like anybody’s mother. Shoes. The word echoed in Lina’s head. Rolling her eyes she stayed in the doorway and kicked back her G.O. issued ankle boots and padded into the room. “You’re welcome”, she offered to her motionless parent as she was guided by the universal adolescent drive for food. On her way to the small kitchentte that took up about a fourth of the size of the spartan living quarters, she noticed a modest pile of raw peanuts sat on the counter. Earthen debris still clung to the outer shells which brought with it creepy crawlies that took it upon themselves to migrate to the walls and other parts of the counter. The word ‘Sorry’ The Last American Virgin rip The Prize video Tommy Boy film came to the forefront of Lina’s thoughts. The teen sighed and went to work cleaning and shelling the protein rich fresh ingredient. Not adverse to the liberal application of elbow grease in any situation, the implication of a bath after food preparation and the subsequent bug hunt just reminded her of a simpler time. Back in the days of life with her Aunts where peanuts were spreadable and showers came at the turn of a knob and not at rhythmic pump of a rusting foot pedal. By that last, empty grasp a pair of warm arms wrapped around Lina’s shoulders. A wave of calm spread from head to toe and a kiss was planted on the side of her head. “Good evening, Selina” her mother cooed. “Hey, Mom. Hungry?” “What is hunger?” Lina rolled her eyes. “Be that way.” “I could have a nibble. Boil any agua yet?” “For dinner, yeah. For drinkin’, not a drop.” “Woman does not live on peanuts alone.” “You’re completely ridiculous, you know that?” Sheila grinned and tapped her daughter on the nose playfully, “Boop.” In minutes the two set dinner to make on the sterno stove, potatoes and peanuts would soon be roiling around the small pot. As that went on Lina helped her dress for work. This night they wrapped long rolls of wide shiny red ribbon across Sheila’s body. Half gift, half Egyptian mummy, Sheila squirmed in place as Lina tied off a large bow on her mother’s right hip. “Just make sure not to pull the bow apart too soon”, Lina said. “Oh, and why is that?” “Its literally holding you all together.” Sheila gave her helper a lopsided grin and motioned for her old robe. As her mother shrugged on the paper thin garment, a memory sparked in Lina. “‘Member that move eight summers back?” “Okay?” “Yeah, we left most of our stuff at that shelter.” Sheila poked a bobbing potato piece testing its tenderness. “Sure, right there was a Winter showcase that year in Grand Rapids. It wasn’t a union show… you know I wasn’t licensed to perform anywhere yet.” “I’m not still upset about that, I’m just – remember what you told me when we got there and I was bored to tears that first night?” “I’ll be your dolly.” “I put the biggest knots in your hair that night.” “Oh I’m well aware of that, spent 20 minutes fixing it in the bathroom at work.” Sheila’s stomach burbled. “Just a nibble, right?” “Sel, I call parental rank on the bigger bowl.” Grins all around, the two served themselves their meager dinner and spent their time together silently communicating through thought whispers. That and that alone served as her only anchor to this reality. All at once her senses returned to her but they were not her own. Lina’s room was gone from her sight, before her stood dozens of bestial-humanoid creatures, each one bearing the insigina of the Global Order. These freakish hybrid agents called Getters fixed themselves into packs and flanked Lina. She watched them bound over the dead and wounded members of the district populace, their bodies lay broken and strewn around the stage she stood atop of. A guttural howl seemed to issue from her own lips as she felt the fangs and claws of one of the attacking packs sink into her shared body. In spite of the trauma of the assault, she tried to will the eyes to search for her Mother. Be it her remains or unconscious form, the unknown fate kept eating Lina up inside. Her vision began to blur and a burning sensation plagued her unblinking eyes. The slaughter before her faded behind a field of smoked glass, the silhouttes danced to a chorus of bird-like shrills and lupine howls. Unable to sob or cry out, Lina had little recourse. ‘SHEILA!’ Baby Blood video Her focus turned her thought whisper into a mental blast that shook her loose from the chaotic vision.Club Dread movie Get Rich or Die Tryin’ full Leave a Reply |
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