As part of the A to Z Challenge, through the month of April I’ll be posting a story a day based on photographs by Joseph T. Richardson and prompts given to me by blog-friends.
Writing prompt: P for Postponement is not an option
I sit on me front porch, thinkin’ Sunday morning thoughts, when they drive up, the two fat coppers.
Where’s Moses?, the taller of the two hook his finger on his belt, and don’t waste our time.
Only Moses I know, I tell them, parted the Red Sea.
No punchin’ the toadstool around me. Moses he turn me ‘to a fairy if I squeal. Better put out for coppers than Moses.
My nose bust next second, one long whine in me ears, blood on me mouth, warm ‘n icky. Usual stuff.
The other copper, sliding behind, he throw me against the porch wall. You wan’ to do them Moses you’self? Where’s you’ gi’lf’iend?
Why cops look more ‘n more like we these days? This one got a missing front tooth. It make his words come all funny.
He take Angela, Moses do, I want to tell them, ‘n she go with him.
Every Sunday Angela she take me to church, Be a good man, Jerry, she say, let the Lord save you. You ne’er took a life, the Lord He forgive you, ask for His mercy.
Last night she run, not with a good man, but Moses. Moses of stick-ups ‘n blagging, pimp, cop-killer, Mac daddy that drive around Sunday e’enings high on shrooms, or eatin’ coke, lookin’ for bitches to rape.
Postpon’ment is not an option, Moses say, his big fancy words, you got one life. Take what you want.
I wanna tell these coppers all that. But what’s the point? She make me wear the mushroom suit every time I do her, there’s the truth of it. Angela want his big brawny spawn, not mine. I’m puny, she say. Some more, these coppers don’t do their jobs, oughta patted me down before slammin’ me.
I pull out the nine Moses thrown at me last nite, laughin’ in my face, ‘n I fire, once, twice. I fall back, more whine in me ears. The nine it hit me back, but it drop them sure. Then I sit me down, and watch the red slide outta their mean little heads. Ne’er bust a cap, and now this.
Moses he got it right. Always a first time, and live only once. I’m havin’ me some different Sunday morning thoughts. With a nine, I’m as tall as Moses. The Lord can save me no more, Angela. I’m comin’ for you.
Are you taking part in the A to Z challenge? Do you read or write fiction? Ever write based on a prompt? What associations do mushrooms have for you?