wepoetsshowit  just published one of my stories on their Debut Writer feature. It is a lovely blog that is certainly worth a visit. All week they have special features on poetry, the arts and an open mic segment. Their blog has a calendar which you can click on and view the up and coming daily events. Since this blog is designed to feature the work of the artistic community you  may want to look at the submission policy. Thank you wepoetsshowit for the opportunity. So here is the story:

Talk by John W. Howell

“So the guy says to me ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ I just look at him and smile.”

“Then what happens?”

“I take him by the arm and walk him over to the trash can. I make him look into the can and then I say, ‘does that look like yours?’”

“I’ll bet he is shitting his pants by then.”

“Oh yeah. I can feel him shaking just by holding his arm.”

“So what then?”

“He tells me he has never seen the bag before and I call him a liar. I place the barrel of the cold gun against his temple and whisper that he better tell me the truth. I squeeze his arm for effect just to make sure he knows I mean it”

“Did he spill his guts then?”

“Naw he keeps insisting he has never seen the bag before. I tell him to pull the bag out of the can which he does.”

“Do you make him open it?”

“Yeah, I tell him to undo the latch.”

“He has the key right?”

“He still says he has no idea how to open the bag so I hit him with the butt of the pistol.”

“Woo. I’ll bet that hurt.”

“He starts bleeding like a stuck pig. I had to give him my handkerchief to stop it.”

“Why did you do that?”

“The main reason is I didn’t want any of his blood on me. You never know these days what some of these assholes are carrying. He could have aids for god’s sake.”

“Yeah I guess that was the smart thing to do. What happened then?”

“I told him to get on his knees and pray since this might be the last few minutes that he would be alive.”

“No shit you told him that?”

“Yeah and then I put the gun barrel on the back of his head and asked him one more time to open the bag.”

“Did he open it?”

“Naw he just started crying and begging me to let him go.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Let him go?”

“Hell no. I pulled the trigger and he hit the ground like I had hit him with a two by four.”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe it. Why?”

“I told him I was going to kill him if he didn’t open the bag. I am a man of my word.”

“Unbelievable. My god you killed a man. Where is the bag now?”

“Right here. Take a look.”

“What is that mess on it?”

“I would say some blood and a little brain.”

“Ew. That is too disgusting.”

“So why don’t you open it.”

“What do you mean? Open it.”

“Just as I said. Open it. You were the one who mentioned the key. Only the owner of the bag would know there is a key needed.”

“I..I don’t know what you mean.”

“Open the bag or I will kill you.”

“Come on. Quit screwing around. You know I don’t have a key.”

“I don’t know any such thing. You were the one who pointed out the guy and said he had dumped the bag in the trash can. You sent me there to get the bag thinking I would just pick it up. All along it was you who threw the bag in the can right?”

“Yes okay I was the one who threw the bag in the can.”

“Why?”

“The bag is filled with diamonds that I took from work.”

“You took diamonds from work. Why?”

“I was going to recover them and pick up a reward.”

“You were the one who took the diamonds and you wanted me to get caught with them?  That guy was a cop and you knew that. He was supposed to arrest me when I picked up the bag. You didn’t think I was going to go after the guy did you? ”

“N-no I didn’t.”

“Now it is too late. The cop is dead and all we have left is a bag of diamonds.”

“Ten million dollars’ worth of diamonds.”

“What?”

“I am the only one who can get rid of them. They will be hotter than hell tomorrow.”

“Why not just turn them in for the reward?”

“It’s too late. There is no one to blame for taking them but me.”

“That would be okay as far as I am concerned.”

“Yeah but I would have to do hard time.”

“That wouldn’t bother me.”

“What are you doing?”

“Looks like I am screwing a silencer on this very loud pistol to me.”

“Don’t kid around like this.”

“I never kid. By the way, you never opened the bag. Bye now.”

© 2013 John W. Howell, all rights reserved