and you?

by John Doe 32 Replies latest jw friends

  • John Doe
    John Doe

    "Jolie ran joyously out to the truck, wagging her tail and grinning, as he.........(insert your words)" realized he was an ambiguous pronoun referrence. The essence of his being creaked like the foundation of a long abandoned house pulled in opposite directions by strong wills wrought from a springtime nor'ester and sifted through a tidal wave.

    Was he evil? Was he a saint? Was he good? Was he bad? Was he a smart man with a soul? Was he a cajun with a dog?

    But, none mattered. He could feel the old clinging craving knawing through his periphery, knawing, viciously drawing, seeking, dividing, knawing. That time-weathered voice--a screeching mattress spring in the throat of his departed grandmother's throat--seeping around into front and center, commanding, asking, compelling, condescending, overpowering, saying. . .

  • Frannie Banannie
    Frannie Banannie

    saying, "Melvin Boudreaux, you gonna be an ol' lonesome hounddog like yo grandpere, if you keep on after women like dat Charlene Thibodeaux. She ain't nothin but 40 miles o' bad road for the likes of you. Her family's never been anything but trash and she's never gonna be anything else. She'll get you killed one of these days."

    'Well,' he thought as his eyes traveled up those bodacious legs, over the luscious curves of her hips and breasts and homed in on Charlene's fiery locks and flashing green eyes, 'It won't be today.' The sound of his grandmother's gnawing voice faded into the sound of Jolie's panting, as she frisked at his side.

    "Charlene! What're you doin' here? Aren't you supposed to be workin'? he said, as he climbed up the steps of the porch and approached the hammock, his hands on his hips.

    "I am workin', Melvin. Daddy sent me up here to tell you to expect some visitors. Some men came to "The Landing" looking for you this morning," she said, as she lowered her feet from the hammock and rose to draw close to him. She was almost as tall as he was. Her eyes traveled over his finely tuned torso, like a bitch coondog in heat and she raised her hand to run it through his sand-colored hair.

    At this news, Melvin's alarm bells began clanging and he quickly stepped back from Charlene's outstretched hand. "What did they look like and how many were there, Charlene? he snapped at her, his special forces training coming to the fore.

    (insert your own words)

  • John Doe
    John Doe

    Before she could respond he added "I know damned good 'n well I buried that shit good!"

    "What are you talking about honey?"

    "Oh nothing. It must be the heat." But it was too late. She now knew he wasn't the gool little local yocal he claimed to be. A cajun can run from his past, but he can never keep the coon dogs from dragging up skunk hides, and that shit stinks like mamma's leftover surprise a week after chicken gizzards are on sale at the local grocer. He eased back into the porch swing, but he knew he had to work fast if he was going to cover his tracks. He had one week left until. . .

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