Things Got a Little... Messy
by Daniel Beadle - Saturday, July 28, 2007
Jake gags on the blood in his throat. It gurgles and spills out of his mouth. His eyes are glazed over with the malaise of weariness… a weariness too great for words. It is dusk. Jake lies in the middle of a courtyard, surrounded by skyscraping buildings. His face is covered in his own blood. The flesh of his knuckles is worn and bleeding.Jake's mind circles and reels. He flashes between moments. The word 'boyfriend' comes to mind. He hears his own voice: “You’re the boyfriend, eh?” A gap in time. “…save us both some time…hit me…I deserve it.” What an unusual request.
