Grind

25 Feb

Go ahead, ask me. Ask me ask me ask me. You know the song. Last time I used this excuse:
–It was halfway through our long trip back up the coast. We stopped at a motel, and in the middle of the night, the car alarm went off just outside our door. I jumped out of bed without turning on the lights, reached for my keys and…
And.
…ran into the lamp on the nightstand.
Ran into a door.
Ran into a wall while reaching for the telephone. (That one sent me to emergency with a concussion)
Ran into windows, cars, fell down the stairs.
One time he pulled back the pinky on my right hand and snapped it. I let it set by itself and it’s now crooked.
Ran into everything.
Nobody gets a black eye from a lamp.
Don’t ask me don’t ask me don’t ask me. I just cannot leave. He’ll look at me with those doe eyes and just, that’s all. That’s all to keep me. And the doctors, I know what they think. They can smell it on my breath. They smell it and it’s over. I know it. Drink. She’s a drunk. So it doesn’t count. She’s just a drunk. So she fell down the stairs.
The thing is, all my life I’ve been running into his fist. That’s how I’ve been.
I lost the baby to his fist. Before I could even show. She was a girl. Her name is Danni.

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6 Responses to “Grind”

  1. dr. zombieswan 25/02/2008 at 10:06 PM #

    Got a woman’s voice on this for you on the blog right now…. Wow that one kind of hurt. You should assign me prompts all the time you crazy man.

  2. (S)wine 26/02/2008 at 12:45 AM #

    No assignments here.

  3. writerchick 27/02/2008 at 1:44 AM #

    Good. Really good.
    WC

  4. (S)wine 27/02/2008 at 1:47 AM #

    Thanks much.

  5. janete cabral 27/02/2008 at 4:43 AM #

    Great piece, it really touched me.

  6. (S)wine 27/02/2008 at 8:21 AM #

    Thanks J.

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