Sunday, March 29, 2015

Bullet of Prose #9 from FAST LANE

I stood up and turned away, but I couldn’t get that picture of him out of my mind, of him getting excited hearing what his daughter was doing for a buck in a peep show.

“Oh God,” he was going on, hamming it up. “I’ll make sure she gets professional help. I’ll make sure—”

I spun on my heels and swung at him, catching him hard on his mouth and bursting his lip wide open. He went down like he’d been shot. I only half saw him as he curled into a fetal position, spitting out blood and a couple of teeth.

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