Black soul rose by John Jones... - HTML preview

Dorothy

121

In the living room, Corinna, Peanut, and yet another new man were lounging in the living room, curls of smoke lazily drifting through the air in the quiet as they watched television.

Dorothy was about to go in the kitchen to go through the kitchen drawer knives, until she saw Peanut’s jacket hanging up.

She crossed over and rifled through his pockets. He didn’t have a wallet, but did have a wad of money wrapped in an elastic band. There was also a pen-knife.

These will do nicely she said, putting on her own coat and pocketing them.

Sylvie, she thought, walking up the stairs to hear her ‘brother’ talking on the phone. She went into his room and he looked up with wide eyes. He had a viscous black-eye. A big plaster above the other, and a cut on his cheek.

“…so I’ve been told…do you mind? I’m on the phone”.

“No I don’t mind at all. Oh by the way did you find that illegal gun you borrowed off your mate who beat you up because you lost it? Now he’s in trouble from someone and it comes back to you…wonder what happened to that gun,” she said forming her hand into a gun sign and pressing it against his head.

“Bang,” she said, quietly. “Well, don’t end up dead in a ditch somewhere, and I actually mean that. Nice to know you kid. May see you later. May not, whatever”. She went into the other room to find Sylvie still in her own little world, playing with her toys.

Stay in that world Sylvie, Dorothy thought, who couldn’t see her because she was playing with her dollhouse, just watching her for a few moments from the doorway.

No, Dorothy thought. I can’t say goodbye, then left the room, went downstairs, and exited the house.