54...
"What guy Anthony? What did he look like?"
Anthony looked up towards the corner of the ceiling as if lost in thought. Or at least it appeared that he was lost in thought since you couldn't see his eyes.
"Well..." Anthony began.
He was generally a good guy. Frank had liked this thin young man with hair that spiked out in all directions when he first met him as he was moving in. He was a musician. He called himself a musician anyway. It was probably closer to the truth that he was an above average guitar player. He had an explosive temper that Frank had heard about, but never personally witnessed. He also smoked enough pot on waking to kill a brood of lab rats.
"Anthony?"
"He was sort of tall... Just kinda... Short hair, button down shirt... Just plain looking. I don't know. I'm not very good with that sort of thing."
"Short hair though? It wasn't curly? Wait, did he have darker hair, kinda intense and creepy looking?"
"Nope. Short, blonde hair. But the thing is, and this is why I came up here to kinda warn you, I didn't trust this guys’ smile."
"What do you mean?"
Anthony's dark glasses leveled on Frank's face.
"He kept smiling, but it wasn't a smile... It was like looking into the mouth of a tiger."
Frank gazed down at the floor, concentrating, attempting to draw a face from the rolling cloud of faces past and present.
"When was this Anthony?"
"About... Ten minutes ago, I think. Not too long ago. He said he was trying to ring your bell, but there wasn't an answer. He came to my door on the side of the house there and asked if I knew you. He asked if you still lived here ‘cause he was trying to find you and had an important message for you. I kinda got the feeling that he was casing my apartment, he kept looking over my shoulder into my place."
"Ten minutes?" Frank asked.
"Yeah, I think so. Do you think it's somone you know?"
"I don't know." Frank had a sudden burst of anger rushing through him as if the dam of societal norms had finally been over run. How many fucking new creeps could he run into in a day?
"I think I saw him checking out the house, like around on the other side."
"Sweet."
Frank once again grabbed the wooden handle of the door from off of the couch and carefully pushed past Anthony and out on to the back deck.
Anthony looked up towards the corner of the ceiling as if lost in thought. Or at least it appeared that he was lost in thought since you couldn't see his eyes.
"Well..." Anthony began.
He was generally a good guy. Frank had liked this thin young man with hair that spiked out in all directions when he first met him as he was moving in. He was a musician. He called himself a musician anyway. It was probably closer to the truth that he was an above average guitar player. He had an explosive temper that Frank had heard about, but never personally witnessed. He also smoked enough pot on waking to kill a brood of lab rats.
"Anthony?"
"He was sort of tall... Just kinda... Short hair, button down shirt... Just plain looking. I don't know. I'm not very good with that sort of thing."
"Short hair though? It wasn't curly? Wait, did he have darker hair, kinda intense and creepy looking?"
"Nope. Short, blonde hair. But the thing is, and this is why I came up here to kinda warn you, I didn't trust this guys’ smile."
"What do you mean?"
Anthony's dark glasses leveled on Frank's face.
"He kept smiling, but it wasn't a smile... It was like looking into the mouth of a tiger."
Frank gazed down at the floor, concentrating, attempting to draw a face from the rolling cloud of faces past and present.
"When was this Anthony?"
"About... Ten minutes ago, I think. Not too long ago. He said he was trying to ring your bell, but there wasn't an answer. He came to my door on the side of the house there and asked if I knew you. He asked if you still lived here ‘cause he was trying to find you and had an important message for you. I kinda got the feeling that he was casing my apartment, he kept looking over my shoulder into my place."
"Ten minutes?" Frank asked.
"Yeah, I think so. Do you think it's somone you know?"
"I don't know." Frank had a sudden burst of anger rushing through him as if the dam of societal norms had finally been over run. How many fucking new creeps could he run into in a day?
"I think I saw him checking out the house, like around on the other side."
"Sweet."
Frank once again grabbed the wooden handle of the door from off of the couch and carefully pushed past Anthony and out on to the back deck.
posted by P. B. Nomer | 2:03 PM
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