fff#33
i kinna cheated. when i started writing i was feeling miserable (trinbago sense, not sad) and decided to allude to trigger words, instead of literally using them; even the 1 instance of using the triggerword, the expression's not literal. i know tha's not the exercise, but i at least tried to do it well...still playing with voice of dude; bear with me...walk good.
flash fiction friday #33 (inclusion)trigger: wet, match, chain, trigger, rendezvous.
when phone ring late on a evening like now, is nutting good. nutting good, trust…is dismal drizzly evenings like this pardners does find out they getting horn from they woman, or getting leave by they woman, or both…
men does call- they know we winding down by brooklyn and they could tell us wait, wait to hear they sob story and buy more beers to drown sorrows alla-we know only going away as far as the las’ one, ‘cause men still hadda reach home, alone. empty house. no amount of consolation beers by brooklyn bar changing dat.
and too besides, men does get dotish.
demetrius find out keisha was hornin’ when she tell him the outside totie was better as she jump in the hornerman car outside she wuk a friday evening, and he come and pelt back a 5guinness quick-sharp…eh heh? nex’ ting i know, we on murray street- me, eh, crawling murray street, friday night, fadda- because why? ‘metrius need to break. somewhere in he heartbroken drunk-ass logic he figure he hadda break with somebody else to break keisha hold on him and restore he manhood or some shit so. i jus’ high enough to want to see this go down insteada rocking back and hear ‘bout it in a half-a-hour.
so, murray street here now, scoping out wha’ the park have and them gyal eh looking nice at all at all…i mean, i expecting, if you tryna make a money you tryna look bes’, ent? apparently not. belly! if you see guts! and cellulite, oh geed, man. they letting it all hang to fuck out. nastiness. wha’ men who like hos really for, dread?
anyway. i looking to tell demetrius this a waste-run but same time he grinning in my face like a jackass, talking ‘bout, look one for each a we, as we approaching the corner of the street with the police station- see wha’ fuckin’ woman plus alcohol does cause? one for each a fuckin’ we? mad or wha’? i tell he i only come to make sure nutting eh happen to him and he doh do anything too much more stupid, ‘cause i studying too, where he go go? the car back by brooklyn, not that he should be driving in his condition, or picking up hos in his mudda vehicle neither…i was thinking a speedy suck-prick behind the playground section and i stand guard as there closer to the police and fire station- i woulda handle soldier, eh- but i when make out 2vagrants playing chess in the main pathway i leggo tha’ idea one time. me eh tryna have no vagrant feeling they could have nutting to tell me when i pass in the road- scene?
as we reach the corner here now, 2 nex’ gyal crawl up same time, a straight-hair spanish with fake breasts and a thick dougla…eh heh? i done finish the stag i had walk with and crack the nex’ one i had stick in my pocket and chase it- jus’ high enough to take the chain-up now it have prospects. ‘metrius step to the spanish and i see he point at me and the thick ting. me eh know wha’ deal he make but nex’ ting we following them.
turning back onto roberts street toward brooklyn bar i put a hand on demetrius’ shoulder- me eh tryna have alla brooklyn bar in this- but he jus’ smile back and we cross roberts right after we rounds the corner from murray, into a dark abandoned-looking yard. the spanish take ‘metrius down in the back, dougla take me behind a bush and before i have time for second thoughts, she kneel, drop my pants and have my wood in she mouth.
i jus’ high enough to ‘llow she; i mean, we done here and i hadda wait on achy-breaky-heart, ent? eh heh? nex’ ting, outta no-fuckin’-where, pax-pax-pax! shots buss somewhere down the road, a setta parrots wake and fly out the pommerac tree screaming bloody murder, i jump back so fas’ i lucky i eh sandpaper meh wood on she teeth, and as i pull out i see ‘metrius pelting toward we, pants open and falling down. the las’ ting i want is to get ketch in this shit, so as i see he see me, buss out one time straight for the gateway, he behind me grumbling ‘bout how he prick still hard. shock wear off now he cyah overstand why we leaving without receiving. but me eh even watch back at he. not me+he again, fadda! nex’ time he gyal done him, he drinking+hoing alone as she leave he arse.
i showing you, doh answer, fadda; you go regret it. take wha’ i telling you: he calling back because he figure you eh hear the phone over bar noise first time…unless you want to find yuhself in some murray-street-esque intrigues tonight, let it ring right to fuck dey on the table…
when phone ring late on a evening like now, is nutting good. nutting good, trust…is dismal drizzly evenings like this pardners does find out they getting horn from they woman, or getting leave by they woman, or both…
men does call- they know we winding down by brooklyn and they could tell us wait, wait to hear they sob story and buy more beers to drown sorrows alla-we know only going away as far as the las’ one, ‘cause men still hadda reach home, alone. empty house. no amount of consolation beers by brooklyn bar changing dat.
and too besides, men does get dotish.
demetrius find out keisha was hornin’ when she tell him the outside totie was better as she jump in the hornerman car outside she wuk a friday evening, and he come and pelt back a 5guinness quick-sharp…eh heh? nex’ ting i know, we on murray street- me, eh, crawling murray street, friday night, fadda- because why? ‘metrius need to break. somewhere in he heartbroken drunk-ass logic he figure he hadda break with somebody else to break keisha hold on him and restore he manhood or some shit so. i jus’ high enough to want to see this go down insteada rocking back and hear ‘bout it in a half-a-hour.
so, murray street here now, scoping out wha’ the park have and them gyal eh looking nice at all at all…i mean, i expecting, if you tryna make a money you tryna look bes’, ent? apparently not. belly! if you see guts! and cellulite, oh geed, man. they letting it all hang to fuck out. nastiness. wha’ men who like hos really for, dread?
anyway. i looking to tell demetrius this a waste-run but same time he grinning in my face like a jackass, talking ‘bout, look one for each a we, as we approaching the corner of the street with the police station- see wha’ fuckin’ woman plus alcohol does cause? one for each a fuckin’ we? mad or wha’? i tell he i only come to make sure nutting eh happen to him and he doh do anything too much more stupid, ‘cause i studying too, where he go go? the car back by brooklyn, not that he should be driving in his condition, or picking up hos in his mudda vehicle neither…i was thinking a speedy suck-prick behind the playground section and i stand guard as there closer to the police and fire station- i woulda handle soldier, eh- but i when make out 2vagrants playing chess in the main pathway i leggo tha’ idea one time. me eh tryna have no vagrant feeling they could have nutting to tell me when i pass in the road- scene?
as we reach the corner here now, 2 nex’ gyal crawl up same time, a straight-hair spanish with fake breasts and a thick dougla…eh heh? i done finish the stag i had walk with and crack the nex’ one i had stick in my pocket and chase it- jus’ high enough to take the chain-up now it have prospects. ‘metrius step to the spanish and i see he point at me and the thick ting. me eh know wha’ deal he make but nex’ ting we following them.
turning back onto roberts street toward brooklyn bar i put a hand on demetrius’ shoulder- me eh tryna have alla brooklyn bar in this- but he jus’ smile back and we cross roberts right after we rounds the corner from murray, into a dark abandoned-looking yard. the spanish take ‘metrius down in the back, dougla take me behind a bush and before i have time for second thoughts, she kneel, drop my pants and have my wood in she mouth.
i jus’ high enough to ‘llow she; i mean, we done here and i hadda wait on achy-breaky-heart, ent? eh heh? nex’ ting, outta no-fuckin’-where, pax-pax-pax! shots buss somewhere down the road, a setta parrots wake and fly out the pommerac tree screaming bloody murder, i jump back so fas’ i lucky i eh sandpaper meh wood on she teeth, and as i pull out i see ‘metrius pelting toward we, pants open and falling down. the las’ ting i want is to get ketch in this shit, so as i see he see me, buss out one time straight for the gateway, he behind me grumbling ‘bout how he prick still hard. shock wear off now he cyah overstand why we leaving without receiving. but me eh even watch back at he. not me+he again, fadda! nex’ time he gyal done him, he drinking+hoing alone as she leave he arse.
i showing you, doh answer, fadda; you go regret it. take wha’ i telling you: he calling back because he figure you eh hear the phone over bar noise first time…unless you want to find yuhself in some murray-street-esque intrigues tonight, let it ring right to fuck dey on the table…
posted by sweet trini @ 11:47 pm
1 comments
1 Comments:
this was entertaining fun lol! Loved reading it :)
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