“So, you now have two choices.” She offered.
“What are they?” I asked as I walked around the bed towards my stash.
“Fuck or fight me.” Moon-girl grinned.
“How about a little of both?”
“Oh, I like the way you think.”
I turned back to the window just as the bedroom door burst open and Michael strode in, entering into the reflection of the glass like a ghost walking into the night sky. I turned around and shook my head. It was always a nice vacation here when he wasn’t around but it never lasted long between visits.
“Get rid of the groupie, now.” He adamantly demanded.
“She doesn’t have to go anywhere.” I replied.
“That’s right!” The groupie said. “I don’t…”
With a wave of his hand, Michael threw her off the bed as though she was moved violently by an invisible force. I really hoped that she wasn’t a journalist now. That would be hard to explain unless one had taken into account all of the booze and drugs that flowed freely through my place at any given time. Michael then, by moving his finger across the air, dragged the poor, screaming girl across the hardwood floor all of the way out slamming the front door behind her. Great, soon there would be a screaming naked woman down in the lobby. No wonder rent was so astronomically high.
Turning around and smiling at the disapproval on my face, he said, “Hey, I asked politely.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.” Michael rubbed his bald head in frustration.
Author’s note: This was an excerpt from my current project ‘The Dweller’ that I have slaved over the last few months and now can finally see the end drawing near. I had written this novel 14 years ago and chose to rewrite it, which was a large mistake as it would have been less effort to write a new book from scratch. Lesson learned, I think.
hernanjmonzon.com 