flushed from c drive

Adler came over for Juan's famous Great Value canned chili. My nonchalant method of turning on the burner gives the dook-colored feast that little something extra. Adler swears area jails have nothing on tibio puercos banquete. And what is the perfect post-para los puercos dessert? Yes, the delicious banana.

Because of wet weather, horse tank-side cocktails were swirled in the hovel’s constrained spa. Too small for conventional pleasantries, such as heated pool and relaxing sauna, the spa can only accommodate a steam iron. While sipping Black Market brandy and taking turns squirting each other with jarring blasts of hot vapor, our conversation soon turn to politics.

But I wasn’t in the mood. Feeling queasy from the entree, banana and cheap brandy, I was ready to watch fat people exercise for cash prizes. Adler realized I was fading.

Worn out? He asked.

I guess. The drive to buy smokes took it out of me. I couldn’t have gone another mile.

What is it? Two, three miles?

At least. And I was wearing steel-toed Red Wings. With my atrophied legs it was like driving in diving boots.

Why were you wearing steel toed boots?

I don’t know. Perhaps I was trying to impress the girl at the counter. She looks like the type who appreciates a man who actually works for a living.

Tattoos?

Just one that I know of.

Is it becoming?

As much as any indescribable bluish-green glob is on a skinny girl’s neck.

Teeth?

No glaring empty spaces. But she doesn’t really smile. It’s more of a strained grin.

Pause. A siren wailed. More creek trouble down at Holly's Haven.

I’d better split before Beloved comes home. Ever since you blamed me for breaking the Bullet blender, I get the death stare.

She learned that trick from her mother. If Trinity Lutheran decides to spice up the bell choir with Dracula-in-drag, Scary Frau tinkling “A Mighty Fortress is our God” is the next YouTube sensation.

Twilight: The rain was over, replaced by foggy swirls of humidity. Adler kicked his old Norton to life. The roar was deafening. I could hear the British bike rumbling east, long after beatnik and machine vanished from sight.

Several hours later, mentally drained from staring sphinx-like at network television, I curled up with the cats and daydreamed about winning a lifetime’s worth of disability checks.