That Judas Kiss

© 9.28.2015 by Mica D’Orléans
Rain fell at its slow pace. Like everything else. Car lights. Red, neon white, yellow, green headlights zoom by. Irrelevant random noise rang like running water mixed with church bells sounding off the pope's death.

The red mark still stung. Yeah. I tried to wipe it from my neck. His invisible kiss. What can I say. Sunday nights don't always mean Monday's next. Independent contractors like me make up their own time.

The street ahead, barely visible, fog and rain, ka? Not too hard to imagine... That street... Yeah. Turn right. Into the alleyway. Past the ramen shop. Across from Ti Malis. Down the dark stairway. Makes no difference time of day. That hole's always dark. Not that it matters.

I released the latch. The cylinder was broken. I knew that. But they wouldn't.

"Ah, ha, ha, ha!"

My kicking down the door had the wrong effect. It was a set up.

That fucking jerk.

Again. I tried to erase the mark.

That Judas kiss.