My wife revived me from my hyper caffeinated, pill driven state.
'Play the rest of the CD at least?'
I had bought the CD 3 years ago, Halestorm had done a cover of my fav AC/DC song and I had saved it for a special occasion. I was letting Lzzy blast out '..too many women, too many pills...' over and over as I drove my wife to work.
'You know the music rules of the Peterson household' I replied as I fingered the empty gun in my pocket.
I think she frowned in the dark of the early morning and pushed the button to play the rest of the CD.
Suddenly , I looked around at the road. I was having one of those moments you get when you are travelling over far to familiar territory. The feeling of suddenly being lost until I spotted the Sunoco station and became aware of my surroundings.We were almost at the hospital.
Again, I fingered the gun that the last 3 years of civil unrest had 'forced ' me to buy.
This was not how I wanted this morning to go. One last trip to my wife's work, where we laughed and chatted and far to often cried about our life. The overwhelming pulse of the 20 or so Excedrin I had popped burned into my skull, preventing me from being the loving husband that I had been.
I quickly became lost in the Klonopin haze that was just starting to overwhelm the Excedrin, again forgetting where I was and who I was with.
I had killed him.And I really wasn't sure why.
it actually wasn't his fault, He had only proved the inevitability of things. He had cracked the secret of the Al Azif and combined that with his intimate knowledge of sociology.The Truth of the End of what we call 'civilization'. And I had made sure that the manuscript never saw the light of day.
'You missed the turn!' Ruth exclaimed
I spun the car around in a bootlegger turn and spead to the ramp. The rush hour traffic erupted into a cacophony of breaks and horns.
'HOLY FUCK' Ruth yelled as I not so calmly continued over the ramp.
She was shaking in fear and anger, but said nothing more for most of the remainder of the ride.
When we got to the hospital, in a jagged voice she said 'Get out of the car!' as she did just that.
I ignored her and instead sped off just as dawn back lit her in my rear view mirror.
I should have saved the last bullet for myself. But I had emptied the clip into the writer I had so hated and admired
I got onto the ramp and headed south on 295, I was doing over a 100 in my old Hyundai.
'Inevitability' I whispered to myself as I slammed into the oncoming Tractor trailer.
Ok just so some of you don't get the wrong idea, I'm not deragened , don't own a gun and have been talking to Scras on FB about this and he told me he loves it. I'm afraid this might have been a little too good at what I was trying to do.
AUTHORS NOTE: The Al Azif mentioned above is the arabic language precursor book to the necronomicon in lovecraftian lore
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? Responses (5)
It is a fantastic homage to my insanity, and Aramax feeding my muse crank and crystal meth.
He left out the part where I was killed by my publisher before I could release my manifesto of despair
This a well written little story, clear and very quick and efficient on the character development.
Thamx axle, I was particularly happy with this one as it was the first thing I wrote after a very long dry spell, just glad scras got the joke. LOL, need to link sub it was inspired by
Wow, this was short and disturbing - Well done, Aramax. Thank you for the note about the Ali Azif, I am woefully not caught up on things Lovecraftian.