Hit Me Back
“You what?” Thomas’ fingers trembled slightly against his khaki shorts.
Robin Lapointe blew a string of cigarette smoke through taut lips. “I made it all up.”
Thomas couldn’t bring himself to look at her: dirty, lime-green sweats; oily hair flat against a face as pale as canning wax. He examined the small living room instead; there was junk everywhere. On the mantel dried flowers but no dust, a tightly folded American flag, a gray felt box, and one photo—a young man in Army fatigues, beaming.
Thomas shuddered, the chilled air prickling his skin. “I don’t believe you. You couldn’t…there was too much. Two years. All those e-mails.”
“First name’s Darren, last name undisclosed, location unknown? Retired Navy? First lover a tunnel rat in ’Nam—what was left was shoveled out of a VC lair? His second, Duke Argento—met cute at the E-club, died of…”
Thomas slapped her, his arm recoiling like a snake. She fell back onto the couch among magazines, piles of neatly typed manuscripts, the lit cigarette still in her hand. He fought the urge to help her. [more]
Lucian Childs was born in Dallas, Texas and currently lives in Anchorage, Alaska where he makes his living as a graphic designer. He received a bachelor’s degree in English literature from Southern Methodist University, another in architecture from the University of Texas, and has studied creative writing at the University of Alaska. When not writing short stories, he is an avid hiker and is active in the local art scene. His work has appeared in Quiddity.
Yeowwwwwww.
The opening is terrific.