In a Dark Alley
It was dark, because, you know, that’s what happens at night. Unless it’s summer, and you’re in Alaska, then it’s night but not dark, and that’s a story for another time by another someone. Not this someone. Someone else.
So the alley was dark too, dark and eerie, like the type of dark and eerie from a cheesy detective novel. You know, the dark, eerie, empty alley that you stand in with that token steam rising in the back, feeling like you’re not alone. Yeah, that’s the one. Of course the ground is wet, so the black pavement seems even darker, and maybe you wonder if there’s a broken electrical cord lying somewhere in a puddle you’re about to step in. Because if you step just right, you’ll be electrocuted. But who would do such a thing to you? Obviously you would have been set up…but why? You’re not a detective or a spy, you’re just looking for your neighbor’s cat. Damn thing…always escaping from the sweet, apple-pie-baking granny downstairs. But what if she’s not that nice, elderly American lady you thought she was? What if she’s really a spy? Then maybe you WERE set up after all.
The smell of lasagna was in the air...but how could it be lasagna? There's a Chinese restaurant next door...the odds of the smell being lasagna would be very low. Maybe the smell was actually 'little old lady's cat chow mein.' The odds of that were higher.
Then, out of the shadows, there she was. The snappiest dame I ever saw. Wearing that red lipstick – you know, the kind that gleams and says “kiss me, then arrest me.” Of course, I’m not a cop, but does that mean I shouldn’t kiss her anyway? I guess if I can’t arrest her, then kissing her probably isn’t a good idea either. I’d sure like to spank her, though. She stood there in that white dress with the red pattern…some strange abstract pattern like swirls and twirls of bright blood red, not the dark dried blood red. Like the murdered body red. Not that red – more like the freshly maimed flesh wound red. The one that is still vibrating with life. She came closer, stepping into the light from overhead. Then I realized it was an apron, with tomato on it. Maybe I had smelled lasagna after all.
It occurred to me to ask her if she’d seen my neighbor’s pussy, but I thought better of it.
4-30-07
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