Hello, darlings… I do hope you’ll indulge me today. This isn’t strictly a Friday Fictioneers piece. Why, because it’s longer than 100 words by about 70.
Not fair, and if you don’t want to keep reading, I’ll not hold it against you.
I should also note that this tale should have about twenty TRIGGER WARNINGS attached to it. It’s not a pleasant tale. I don’t even know why I wrote it or where it came from. Okay, that’s not entirely true. When I saw the picture, I couldn’t help but think about the film Stand By Me, and four boys’ quest to find a dead body.
But then something strange took over, and this story just came, and when the muse starts singing (even if it’s as ugly a song as this one) I make it a habit to listen. Now, I’m not saying that I just wrote this and refused to edit it down. I’m saying that I did edit it into this form, which is, unfortunately, 166 words. So. Take the Friday Fictioneers tag off of it if you will, but here I am, sharing what I think is a powerfully written story, even if it’s an ugly one.
Without further ado, here is a tale I call “Two Bodies”.
“D’you wanna see a dead body?”
“Ha ha, very funny, Mike. Yell TRAIN next, be real original.”
David had seen a dead body that summer — his own father. Lately, he spent most days with Mike, hiking up and down the train tracks, pretending they were Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. He couldn’t stand listening to his mother cry anymore. Not over him. He didn’t deserve her tears.
“Sorry, Dave,” Mike apologized — a regular habit of his. “I dint mean nothin’.”
Mike reached out and touched his friend’s face tenderly. Dave winced and pulled away.
“Stop it! I told you — I’m not like that!” David cried. “Can’t you just be normal?”
Flushing crimson, Mike threatened: “I’ll tell everyone what you did!”
“What we both did,” David corrected, eyes brimming with tears, hands clenching with rage.
“Besides,” he added, “you liked it. You fucking homo!”
Mike threw the first punch, but it was Dave who threw the first stone; Dave who walked home alone.
Read other, more rule-abiding tales by clicking on the little blue frog (but be gentle, darlings, she’s an amphibian, and is fragile).
Oh, and shameless plug – I’m preparing to release Memoirs of a Dilettante Volume Two, and as a bonus, a Shakespearean-style play called Penelope, Countess of Arcadia — a sort of tragi-comedy. Please check out my PUBSLUSH campaign to learn how to pre-order. There are all sorts of options available — for $5 you could pick up both Volume One and Volume Two in e-book format. Cheap way to check out the writing and support an indie writer.