8:40 p.m. - 2008-06-19
2pm with friends.
Fiction:
I got up this morning and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Noticed my phone was flashing red. Voice message, text, something. What?
Pick it up, vioce mail.
His voice.
"Hey, I just wanted to let you know, the money is on the coffee table. You know what to do."
I flush. I freak.
Noise in my ears turns up. Sounds like the ocean. Darkness is the only way to describe it.
The gun we keep on the dresser, its missing. I check the drawers. The closet.
Get my keys, throw on my shoes and drive drive drive. Dont even bother locking the door to the house. So long as I'm gone.
It ends up being on of those false freak outs. All he wanted was a bag of ice and some hot dog buns.
But sometimes, all I want to do is get the call telling me its time to pick up and go. To end it all.
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