The shoes didn't fit. It was an omen.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Small Excerpt Sunday

Lila’s waiting at the Motel 6 for her best friend, Cynthia, to come pick her up, but she has a bad dream, foretelling some future event.


I closed my eyes and everything went dark – but not for long. I found myself standing in a white sterile room. B.J. Clemmons stood over a bed. A man lie in it. Tubes surrounded him and something beeped beside his bed. I walked toward both of them. Julio lie in the bed, eyes closed, looking lifeless.

B.J.‘s head stayed lowered and stared at my boyfriend. Well, my used-to-be boyfriend.

“B.J.,” I said. “What’re you doing here?”

He didn’t answer. I tapped his shoulder, but he didn’t respond.

A whirlwind entered the center of the room and twirled beside me. I tried to move away, but it followed me, and sucked me into its middle.

Thrown from side to side in the storm tunnel, I rolled onto the motel floor. Someone’s bare feet wiggled their toes at me. The left big toe nail looked bruised. Hair curled out around the person’s ankles. Max. How’d he get here?

“Room thirteen, baby doll,” he said. He read my mind. “You need to get up.”

Something wet ran down the side of my face and down my chin. I swiped at it.

“Baby doll, I’m coming for you.”

His laughter filled the room, and he vanished.