One Trick Pony

For the last fifteen or so years I've been living with a bunch of dead guys at a motel in West Texas. Like the characters in my stories, I'd really like to move on, see the world, go places. But I'm just like them. Anchored by love, worn down by circumstances and fascinated by how much there really is underneath it all. So I keep writing their stories and tell myself that someday, when I've got this all out of my system, I'll write deep, meaningful literature about... something else. In the meantime, this is a place for the short attention spanned. I'm making a commitment to keep it small here. Flash fiction and scenes from the life inspired by, The Bella Vista Motel.

Thanks for reading.


Friday, February 12, 2010

Madge Makes Up Her Mind - 4

Madge turned to leave room number 12, working herself up into a huff, overriding her unease with irritation at the cleaning girl's disappearance and locking on to the idea that she had run off. Before she made it to the door she heard a sound coming from the other side of the wall, a sound like a cat meowing far away and it stopped her cold. Room number 12 was the last room in the row on the west side of the motel and on the other side of the wall, there was a clearing that led into a deep grove of trees. She moved nearer to the wall listening to the muffled sound as it faded in and out like the stations on the radio when the strange voices cut into the usual shows. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear listening closer and caught two words in spanish that she understood, "perdido," and, "ayuda." She stepped back from the wall and hesitated only a moment before she ran out the door and around the corner into the clearing, hoping she could get to the girl before she wandered too deeply into the grove of trees.

No comments:

Post a Comment

This blog has migrated to: Vintage Vice
I'd love it if you'd leave a comment there. Thanks - Pamila