The Flame of Reason


The Malibu's faded paint job mirrors the sooty interior, but the machine is not the real dirty part.  It's the three human beings inside here with me if you can call them that.  The speakers blare out some awful hip hop tune about beating women and getting paid.  The fumes of their intoxicants they need to ingest for the courage to do this cowardly act are on me now and in me.  If it weren't for that dream I wouldn't even be here.

“Hey.  Hey.”

I look up ahead at the rear view mirror.  The driver switches his blood-shot eyes between me and the road.

“You all right?”

Oh sure.  I am just perfect.  I have never committed a crime in my life.  I mean really.  I never even swiped a pack of gum.  I waited at that gas station counter for twenty minutes just to pay for it.  No one would have even missed it.  But I waited.

“Yes, Percy.  I'm fine.”





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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. :)