The Finish Line Looks Like That
I got turned around in Arizona. Somehow I fell asleep on the Greyhound bus and went unnoticed until we were in the garage. I woke up to complete darkness all around me as I unfolding myself from the deepest sleep of my life. I mentally sifted through the day before checking in with myself. had I taken any sleeping pills? No, I had taken none.
I jammed the sticky door handle to open the ancient metal bus, feeling my body creak slightly as it attempted to remember walking. The bus station was downtown, so it wasn’t hard to navigate the few streets. The town looked like people had just left it standing as is, just like every small town. The dirt under my feet was red like long dried blood as I walked down curiously empty but clean streets in the sleepy downtown until I found a motel.
The zombie working the counter or Go On, Sleep Inn was swatting flies with one hand and had clearly been jerking off with the other before I walked in. His dick was barely stuffed into his sweat pants. I tried not to grimace as he handed me my change, behaving as though it was every day that my bills were covered in vaseline and semen. He stared at me with bloodshot eyes and a crooked overlapping tooth. He had the most beautiful nose, shaped perfectly like it was sculpted from artist hands.
“We ain’t got no cable.” The zombie said greasily. “I got some videos, of the delicate variety. Those are extra.” He winked making me look down at the floor embarrassedly. “No thanks, but if you know a good diner in town, I’d appreciate it.”
“Suit yourself, small fry. Try Mahews. They got good burgers.”
The flies lazed around him as I took the banged up room key and headed to number 21.