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by Stinky
Rated: 18+ · Prose · Occult · #1240577
Me angry make every thing red...Everything red...
She just didn't understand...When I get angry, all I see is red...

***

The roadway was ever so smooth that day as we cruised into the sunset and through an intersection in which

"Johnny!!!"

Screech and crash. Blood. Red. All I see is red...

***

As usual, she was chewing into me because she found a bag of pot in my glovebox. Again. Time and again I tell her It's my car! It's my money! Goddamnit--It's my pot! My body! My life! She made me angry. I swear, I didn't know the light was red... Everything was red...

***

They had me in a stretcher. Long rows of bright lights illuminated the white ceiling and the white coats and the little white hats with their red crosses on them. Hmm...I can see the cross...I must not be angry anymore...

Then I remembered she threw my bag out the window. The crosses disappeared...

***

I did some thinking while I was stuck in front of the TV in white sheets hooked up to a morphine machine that didn't give out nearly enough. I told the nurse to get my wife on the phone.

"Honey...I'm sorry about smoking...It's wrong, I realize now...Please forgive me..."

"Hon...I gotta...I gotta tell you something: I--I smoke crack..."

The crosses disappeared again...

© Copyright 2007 Stinky (bigmuscles at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1240577-Red