When the brick hit the window, it didn’t stop. The thing about a brick is, it’s got no thought process, only one sole purpose; to be a brick. Bricks are unforgiving and this one was no different. I had a towel over the window to protect your soft white skin from the scorching sunshine. Bricks don’t stop for towels, so it just kept on coming like a train running loose down a track with no conductor; destined for destruction. I heard it long before I saw it and I swerved off to the side of the crowded expressway. There were two little stick figures on a hill in the distance. They were doubled over with their hands on their knees, laughing hysterically. You never even woke up for a second, even with your mother screaming like a banshee. I told her to hang tight, grabbed the brick and headed up the hill. The two little sticks grew into bigger sticks the closer I got, but it didn’t matter. I was beyond a rationale thought process and much like the brick, I had one purpose, destruction. They sticks ran down an embankment, but I was upon them. Ripping them up into my arms, I yelled, “You could have killed her! You stupid little sticks! What the hell did you do?” They fought hard for being so small. Kicking, scratching, biting, pulling at whatever their tiny stick fingers could grab onto, but it was no use. I picked them apart like meat on the end of a drumstick, one shard at a time. I even used the smaller sticks forearm to pick the fat from my teeth when I was done. They screamed and begged until the end, right up until I slammed the brick down on the smaller ones skull. Then the screams stopped and I headed back down the hill to my car, but it was gone. I headed for a little path into the woods and I didn’t stop running until I came to a clearing. It was then that I realized I might have made a mistake. I had forgotten the brick with my fingerprints on it. I doubled back and when I made it to the expressway, there was my car, window intact. You were smiling asking me if everything was all right. I j nodded my head, ran up the hill and retrieved the brick. When I came back down, you asked me what had happened, but there was nothing to say. I kissed you gently on your forehead and we headed back down the expressway, towel on the window, saving your soft white skin from the sinister sunshine and the bricks hurled from the sticks on the expressway.
Posted on: Fri, 22 Nov 2013 01:27:41 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015