That Old Feeling

“I can’t believe that old motel is still there. And our room number six empty for our return visit. Feels like fate. But, no Sweetie. No hurry. We’re gonna take our time with this one. It’s the same space, but of course the girl who worked here in ’63 was prettier than you, boy.” Bernie chuckled.

The clerk now saw the large claw hammer Bernie has pulled from his wife’s purse. It was twitching in the old man’s hand as though it couldn’t wait to do the unimaginable work. He shook his head and shouted through his gag.

An insistent buzzing sounded from the counter. Marge went over to it.  “How do I work this, Sweetie?”

“Try sliding your finger on the screen,” Bernie replied, licking his dry lips, staring at the clerk.

Marge lifted her glasses, then held the phone close to her face and read ‘R U going 2nite?’ The screen faded back to black and she wiped it clean, putting it back on the counter.

“It seems you were invited to a party, young man.”

About me

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. :)