Of Fleas and Dogs

Jimmie lay awake. The middle of the night. Every noise from the suburban neighborhood coming windows.   Random noises.  Muffled rattle becoming a clear sound of passing trucks.   Cats, dogs and raccoons take turns passing thru his mind.  He tosses side to side alone. 

“Julian, damn it. Get your ass up or go to sleep.” Celeste snaps at him.  Ripping away the sheets, she turns away.

Julian’s scream fills the suburban night.  It’s that dream ever night since the accident.  Guilt is making an appetizer of his psyche.   The morality police come at night with 2×4’s.  Tasting what might be left of that thing known as the soul.  

What has he done? Oh he knows that.   Why was clear two weeks ago.  He keeps saying Jimmie brought it up to him.

“Clean, simple.  You’ll just wake up and start all over.   All your problems gone.   A fat check, minus my fee.  No-one will be to the wiser.” His mind casts Jimmie with pointed beard and ears.  His features diabolical, his voice of angels.

“When will it all end. ..”  It slowly leaves his mouth, much like tire leaking overnight to strand you.

Other pieces of story

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