Waiting

He sat on the edge of the bed. Waiting. On the nightstand was a Gideon’s Bible. That along with some change and a gold watch his wife had got him for Christmas. He put the Bible in the drawer. Placed his wallet on the bed and opened it; pulling out hundred dollar bills, a Starbucks card, and a Visa. The picture of his wife and son remained. He didn’t want to look at it.

The phone call was made an hour ago. She answered. He said he’d like to meet her. Told the woman what hotel he was at. Gave out his room number. Said he’d take care of her. They did not exchange names.

She asked if he was a cop? Nervously he said no. Said he was from out of town. Told the lady he was from Buffalo. She laughed. I don’t get too many from Buffalo, she said. I think you’re the first. He assured her that he was from out of town and was not a cop. She said she’d be right over.

What am I doing? he asked the blank wall, looking for the face of Jesus in it. Forgive me of these sins Father. Forgive me, the man pleaded. There was a knock on the door. He decided not to answer. Turned off the lights. There was another knock. And, another.

Go away, he said. Just go away. He looked through the peep hole. She was skinny, blonde hair a mess, makeup like a circus clown. She knocked again. I said go away, he began to sweat.

Open the mother fucking door, she said in a quiet scream. Open it. He did not. I’ll get my boy after you, she yelled while walking away. You’ll see.

He sat on the edge of the bed. Waiting.

Published by:

dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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