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chapter 10

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Johnny Slipknot



Joined: 04 May 2005
Posts: 39
Location: The Burned City
chapter 10  Reply with quote  

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Jay wasn’t the only one having a lousy morning.

Mahoney had woken up to find the power was off and the bedside clock dead. It happened only on days when she absolutely, positively could not be late for work. Days like today.

Scrambling like the place was on fire, she found that Sabaka had peed on her shoes. The outfit picked out the night before (a slate gray suit, chosen for its slightly masculine cut that, when set off by the right hair style and lipstick, would show the Boys at Killian’s Construction she was more Man than they would ever be, and more Woman than they would ever have.) had fallen from its hanger and now rested atop the over-filled ashtray, crumpled and smudged.

She made it to the meeting just as it was coming to a close and looking like an un-made bed. Jack Simmons had harassed her all the way to the office until, in the elevator, she threatened to staple his Stafford tie to his tongue unless he shut his trap and got off her ass.

When she got to her office, her secretary informed her that the landlady had called to say the power was back on and the smell of coffee was coming from her apartment. Mahoney turned on her heels, snatched the nine other messages from her secretary’s hand, and headed back home.

At 11:30 she sat in her usual spot in the coffee shop. Sstaring across the room at the empty table where the ‘Nemesis’ normally sat. Of all the disappointments and indignities she had suffered that morning, none was worse than the realization that his absence was not a turn for the better.

She was disappointed and she hated it.

It wasn’t the first time he hadn’t been there, of course, but this time, she knew why. In her gut, she somehow knew. He was with the Boob-job.

The hurt she felt made her all the more angry. It was her own fault, she told herself. She had had more than a year to confront him and try to put her soul at ease. But no. Month after month of sitting there, stewing in her own juices and the Boob-job decides to walk over and throw her hair at him.

At least it had taken that much effort. Boob-job had been sitting at the table next to her, making eyes at Radio-boy, for a week with the no result. Then, one sniff of her hair, an artfully displayed cleavage shot, and…

She reached into her bag for her journal. When she felt this raw, her therapist had suggested she put her thoughts on paper. It was the only thing the over-paid pervert had told her that was worth a damn. She had half filled a notebook with rants, dreams (good and bad), poems, and memories. Today would be a three-pager. But after a thorough search, she found her journal was not there.

Slumping into the chair, she said to the world at large, “Look, I don’t know what I’ve done to piss you off, but if you cut me the tiniest of breaks…”

The door opened and in walked Jay. She had seen his picture in the paper and on television interviews, but not in person. Not since that long ago night in New Orleans. He had put on some weight, but was still attractive. His face was stormy and flushed. Looking around the shop, Mahoney could tell he was agitated. When he saw her staring, his eye’s narrowed. He was walking over.

“You’re her, aren’t you?” he asked.
“I’m who?”
“The girl…the one that always glares at him.” He looked her up and down. “Wait. You’re beautiful.” He sounded puzzled.
“um…Thank you?”
“No, it’s just…I figured you were, well…. It’s just that, he calls you the Trogla-” He caught himself just as her eyebrows shot up to her hairline.
He plowed on, “Look, it doesn’t matter. Where is he? Have you seen him this morning?”
Mahoney’s cheeks burned. “Do I know you?”
“Yes, you do. Has he been in here today? I need to find him.”
Mahoney decided to skip it and play. “No. He didn’t come in today. Why?”
“I need to find him so I can kill him.”
“You’re a credit to your gender.”
Jay turned to go...

...but stopped. When he turned back, the look in his eyes was pure malevolence.

“You guys really hate each other, don’t you?” He asked.
“Something like that.” It was too much to explain right now.
“You busy for the next couple of hours?”
“I’m taking the day off.”
“Good. Come with me.”


JS



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Post Sun Jul 31, 2005 1:08 am   View user's profile Send private message
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