To Be Continued ...

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The Red Cap

“She’s not here anymore.” And the painted blue-screened door slammed shut.


He stood there for a solid thirty seconds wondering if the words were truly factual. Probably not, but he won’t know for sure unless he sees her leave this planet with his own eyes.

No way she wasn’t there, that bitch is too predictable to not be there.

With his right hand he adjusted himself and reluctantly dropped foot down three steps and swaggered to his jacked up and testosteroned, blue green SUV, with its windows ajar allowing the summers heat to break away from the cab but only for his own ease, everyone else can sweat it out.

He opened the drivers door hauled his six-foot frame inside, and then with raging force slammed it shut.


He’d nail her, but where in hell was she?

Beads of garlicky sweat formed above his upper lip.

In Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love willingly embraces the summer’s cruel and unforgiving heat and humidity. He tugged at his sleeveless shirt and his khaki shorts stuck to the cracked leather seat damp with the sweat from the backs of his worked out legs. He turned on the engine and toyed with the radio before he made wheels.

Forever in search of the right song, he played with the knobs until he heard what he wanted, “Some folks are born made to wave the flag …” Credence.

And there he went, in his SUV—singing and sweaty and launched into the asphalt open traveling at a furious 50 in a 30mph zone—completely, and blinded by his personal mission.

He’s going to find her and when he does the scream of a damn pressure cooker won’t compare with what she’ll emit from her mouth.

Just need to make a quick stop—a bottle o’ Johnny—brown and burning.

Two bottles and his baby, he needed his baby, and baby will put all this to rest.

With care and coddling he rested his 38-caliber shotgun on the seat next him.

He went back and parked, and lost himself in a purple haze.

He watched, drank, and waited.

Bitch-making me crawl …

Bitch, messing with my head …

Bitch, no one leaves me until I say …

The red baseball cap, he saw it!

He sat up a bit straighter.

A bright white light shined directly into his eyes and he squinted.


“Sir, you have the right to remain silent …”

“What? Holy …”

And the Angels sang: “You can’t always get what you want.”


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