Postcard from Chinguashi

“That is so deep.”

Joey cringed.

“Two Chardonnays,” Che said to the bartender.  “C’mon, I gotta use the can.”  The pair click-clacked to the ladies’ room in their leather boots.  The barman put two glasses of wine on the bar and rolled his eyes at Joey as they passed.

Joey honked up an oyster and spit into one of the wine glasses before going back to the street.  He tried to ignore the “One two three four,” wishing they hadn’t taken his grenades.

*  *  *

The banging on the front door roused Joey on the fire escape where he was smoking a joint.  “Open up,” Richie shouted outside.  “I got sumpin’ important to tell ya.”

Richie was his father’s war buddy, a surrogate father when Joey’d been younger, and now a drinking partner.  The old man burst into the flat and grabbed Joey’s shoulders in his gnarly hands.





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)