“Your dad doesn't want you hanging around here.” Me, I added silently.
A woman leaned over a white rail, pointing at choppy waves and shouted Shark.
Margot placed her palms on my kitchen counter and danced back and forth. “Yeah, I know. I don't see why though, you're pretty nice. Besides, that party was so sad.”
“I'm not really. You just don't know me that well. I'm a cold-blood killer.”
The blue-gray fin blurred through the spray of water as it sped after the small boat.
I moved to the living room and collapsed on to the couch, concentrating on the muted T.V.
“Can I have a some of that?”
“Just a sip. Does your dad let you drink at home?”
Beneath the surface, the shark circled the bottom of the boat, gaining speed.
"My brother's not answering my texts and it's pretty wet outside. Can I get a ride home?"
I thought about telling her to have her dad pick her up at my house. I imagined him storming up my steps and punching me in the nose.
Locked onto its target the shark opened wide.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (2 so far!)
Still confused in the middle where it seems to throw in another character. I read this as the shark was a metaphor for the guy honing in on his victim, the girl. The 'I'm not really' line feels out of place. It doesn't answer any questions.
- #2877 Posted 4 years ago
Understandable. It was an experiment and I'm fine with leaving this as a sort of confused account.
- #2878 Posted 4 years ago
- Published 4 years ago.
- Story viewed 4 times and rated 0 times.
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