19...
“No I don’t know you!”
“Are you sure?” The guy looked like central casting sent down a homeless guy, too perfectly grotesque. He began shaking just slightly as Frank stared at him.
“Yes, I’m sure. Get out of here before I brain you with this ashtray!”
The man began to shake harder. His head snapped and his eyes appeared to be rolled back into his head. His right hand flew to his face and looked as if it were attempting to send a message via morse code through his cheek.
“Dude?” Frank lowered the ashtray just a little bit. He gripped it just a little tighter though, not sure if this was some sort of psychotic trick.
The man’s head began to roll from side to side and spittle flew from his mouth in wholesale chunks. A low, stuttering grunt began to issue from his throat.
“I do not want to fucking deal with this!” Frank practically whined. What do I do? Shove a wallet in his mouth or something right? Frank lowered the ashtray completely and looked fervently around the room for something he could use to keep this freak from biting off his own tongue.
“Mairn...” Frank heard the man moan. He winced as if seeing somebody break a bone. “Honey post orange!”
The man’s head was no longer lolling about, but he was still shaking fiercely.
“Surprised eye tree and falling gone eternity!”
Frank felt like crying. He was stuck in a mire of frustration, confusion and fear.
“Saving you. Purple lotus board are five... Rounded... Bare light...”
The man opened his mouth in a great, silent chasm.
“Purple lotus...”
His shaking quickly slowed to a nervous shuffle, his eyes opened and focused on Frank. Frank stared with gaping mouthed amazement, slowly moving his head back and forth as if timing the movements of a cobra.
The man took a deep breath and let loose an ugly, choking laugh that hurt; a long and wicked laugh.
Frank hurled the ashtray at the man and missed by a good foot and a half.
“Get the fuck out of here!”
The man stopped laughing abruptly and nodded his head.
“I’ll go.”
And as if it were all a put on, the man in the ragged and reeking clothes, the man who smelled of piss and rancid sweat opened up Frank’s front door and walked out.
Frank fell to his knees without ceremony and laid his head on the floor.
“Are you sure?” The guy looked like central casting sent down a homeless guy, too perfectly grotesque. He began shaking just slightly as Frank stared at him.
“Yes, I’m sure. Get out of here before I brain you with this ashtray!”
The man began to shake harder. His head snapped and his eyes appeared to be rolled back into his head. His right hand flew to his face and looked as if it were attempting to send a message via morse code through his cheek.
“Dude?” Frank lowered the ashtray just a little bit. He gripped it just a little tighter though, not sure if this was some sort of psychotic trick.
The man’s head began to roll from side to side and spittle flew from his mouth in wholesale chunks. A low, stuttering grunt began to issue from his throat.
“I do not want to fucking deal with this!” Frank practically whined. What do I do? Shove a wallet in his mouth or something right? Frank lowered the ashtray completely and looked fervently around the room for something he could use to keep this freak from biting off his own tongue.
“Mairn...” Frank heard the man moan. He winced as if seeing somebody break a bone. “Honey post orange!”
The man’s head was no longer lolling about, but he was still shaking fiercely.
“Surprised eye tree and falling gone eternity!”
Frank felt like crying. He was stuck in a mire of frustration, confusion and fear.
“Saving you. Purple lotus board are five... Rounded... Bare light...”
The man opened his mouth in a great, silent chasm.
“Purple lotus...”
His shaking quickly slowed to a nervous shuffle, his eyes opened and focused on Frank. Frank stared with gaping mouthed amazement, slowly moving his head back and forth as if timing the movements of a cobra.
The man took a deep breath and let loose an ugly, choking laugh that hurt; a long and wicked laugh.
Frank hurled the ashtray at the man and missed by a good foot and a half.
“Get the fuck out of here!”
The man stopped laughing abruptly and nodded his head.
“I’ll go.”
And as if it were all a put on, the man in the ragged and reeking clothes, the man who smelled of piss and rancid sweat opened up Frank’s front door and walked out.
Frank fell to his knees without ceremony and laid his head on the floor.
posted by P. B. Nomer | 9:43 PM
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