As everyone was trying to leave New Orleans, I was walking in, past screaming rednecks firing shotguns, brutal angry thugs, beatings, pounding rain, winds so strong they scooped trash cans up of the sidewalk and flung them into the sides of buildings. I walked down the street, when a stove crashed through a window right behind where I had been seconds before. A man sees me, and holding two beer bottles, one in each hand, he shatters them on the bar and starts to follow me with them and a glare of hatred in his eye the likes of which I had only seen in stoned withdrawal and crystal meth come-downs. I notice him and pick up my pace. Handcuffs dangle off my right wrist. A car slams into a pole and a hubcap flies off the car smacking my pursuer in the back of his head and he falls down. I walk on, ankle deep in water. He stands up, collects his broken bottles and continues to follow me, blood drooling down the back of his head and down his tattooed forearms. Two cars speed past me as I cross the street to an abandoned apartment, to the fire escape. I fling a brick at it and the ladder slams down into thin air. I jump up and grab it and start to climb. My pursuer throws one of the bottles away and puts the other one, neck first, in between his teeth and climbs after me. We are running, jumping, climbing, his hatful glare even more sinister than it had been when he first saw me. I make it to the roof, and run across it, handcuffing myself to a looping pipe jutting out of the brick, and collapse to the ground. My pursuer teeters on the roof for a moment, his eyes roll back in his head, and he falls off, into a dumpster that is sliding by into the water, that will later go on to tip over, and spill his corpse at the feet of distraught running families. I handcuff myself to a pipe, and throw the key over the side of the building.
kurtice6@hotmail.com
he'd love some feedback
he's a very lonely man