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"Janeane’s smile, Kerplow!" -> (6 skipped) -> "Janeane’s smile, Kerplow! (8)" -> "Janeane’s smile, Kerplow! (9)"

Janeane’s smile, Kerplow! (10)  by dogdeity11

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The candle light bleeds into my skin. A wave of relief and nausea washes over me.

I am drunk with being alive.    

Seven shots.

Five blank chamber clicks.

Two tequilas.

Only one left.                       

Ladies and Gentleman, Elvis has left the building!

I set the gun down lightly and lean over it, stretching myself across the table toward Kirt.  

‘Game over old friend. I win.” 

 ‘IT’S NOT OVER YET!” He spits.

Still holding the bottle he takes a deep swig.

I begin to laugh. Long, loud, indecent laughter.

My sanity wearing off…the insanity of reality returning.

I stand and quickly walk to Kirts side, resting my hand on his slumped shoulder.

**** it brother. It doesn’t really matter anyway, right?” I say all worldly, like a man who has just cheated death.

I turn and head toward the door, thinking…I may just get myself a woman tonight. To celebrate my victory.   

As I close the door behind me I hear Kirt whimper, “It’s not over yet.”




   I walk down the dim hallway toward the stair well. Dim, like the minds of all the people I encounter each and every painstaking day.

“Yes, it is over Kirt.”

As I walk down the stairs to the bottom floor I think back to the gun, still sitting there on the table. I should have taken it with me. Just in case…

In case it wasn’t actually over.

But No, Kirt wouldn’t be that ignorant. He’s already lost. No need to prove it.

I exit out into the cold, breezy Detroit night and check my watch.

‘Just in time.” I rhyme.

Because of the graveness of this evening’s game I determined it would be best to not have a vehicle in the area. So I took the bus.

Checking the schedule before I left I noted that there were two late busses, one at 8:00 and one at 10:00.

It was 8:03.

As I stroll the half block toward the bus stop I see a fine sister in a short skirt getting into a car across the street. I pause briefly to admire her. I imagine fondling her as I did the gun.


Just then the bus rounds the corner and pulls up to the curb with that loud screeching noise that braking busses sometimes make.

But wasn’t it a little louder this time? Did it sound a little like…a gun shot?

I turn around and look back to the building I just left, to the second story window where my best friend was most likely still sitting. Wasn’t he?

I strain my eyes hoping for a quick glimpse of his shadow. All I can see is the distant flick of a lone candle flame. Just one.

The other must have blown out.

Silence envelopes me as I ponder the romantic charm of this analogy.

‘Hey man, you getting on or what?”

I turn quietly and climb the stairs unto the bus.

After paying the man I edge down the aisle, past dozens of wasted heads, toward the back. I scan their haggard, bloodless faces.

If they only knew. The lines that they could cross. If they only knew what life was all about.    

I sit down, in the very last seat…and smile.

Unrehearsed, just like Janeane.

I know.
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  'Janeane’s smile, Kerplow! (10)' statistics: (click to read)
Date created: March 14, 2008
Date published: March 14, 2008
Comments: 4
Word Count: 1638
Times Read: 694
Story Length: 1