A Possible Warm Plate

Friday night feeling bigger than his skin, but with a deepdown trembling heart he makes the call that will ensure a fist fight or worse soon. Uses his doped out digits to dial the digits of the son’s number of the main man who controls the ladies that prowl town. When the phone answers angry hello, who the fuck is this, stop calling me, he hangs up and quietly considers…

He’s been scamming and attempting to coax sell my girl for six months, could be less, but the fact remains he wants her, and she’s starting to want him, the mystery, the intrigue, the lust and adventure and I can’t have that because all I can offer her is some small stabilities of failure and an oft repeated I love you at night. Wet soppy things, that could, and quiet possibly will, lead to boredom. So I must arrange a meet and then beat him senseless before he sees me. But the repercussions…the repercussions are this:

1. I go to jail.
2. I get jumped myself, leading to/or…
3. He finds out who I am
4. Lots of retaliatory violence towards myself. And maybe others I know.

No I must kill him. Full stop. But a meet up? The phone records, then the police interrogations, the…stop! What am I thinking? Maybe I should just let her go? Be done with it. What do I care anyway? She’s just a girl. I don’t own her. But…unfortunately, her love seems to own me. An instant addiction due to the warmth in her eyes, the sun in her smile, the depth of her heart, the-

And back forwards churns his upset mind. Pacing. Having never been in a fight does not stop him from continuing to consider murderous clichés whilst holding killing kitchen instruments. Finally he settles double palms against the rented laminated bench. Head down. Staring through scars of mischopped carrots and saucepans too hot to put down.

Oh God or whoever is up there, please! give me an answer. Let me know how this is going to turn out. Just a sign, like make a loud noise if everything is going to end badly.

Silence, then outside the window, at the flat opposite but not adjacent, KNOCK BLLLEEARGH KNOCK FUCKIN HELP ME SHIRLEY I BLOODY DRANK TOO MUCH AGAIN I’M SORRY BLLLEEEARGH OPEN THE D-!

Oh Lord. This is not good. Not good at all.

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