\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
    November     ►
SMTWTFS
     
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
Archive RSS
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/239552-Yard-Sale-Beach-Party--Black-Worms
Item Icon
by RatDog Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Book · Fantasy · #274453
A Journal of my adventures in the world I inhabit while I'm asleep.
#239552 added April 30, 2003 at 3:28am
Restrictions: None
Yard Sale, Beach Party, & Black Worms
I'm walking past a row of beach condos with my older sister. I notice this woman having a yard sale in front of her apartment. We decide to check it out. I recognize her, she's an actress/singer I've seen on tv, a real hottie.

My sister is buying some old bamboo windowshades from her. Suddenly I have to pee, so I ask the woman if I can use her bathroom. "Sure, it's just inside the condo, to the right," she says.

As I'm washing my hands, I notice a hamper full of her dirty laundry next to the bathroom sink. On top is a pair of leopard print panties. I pick them up and hold them to my face, breating in her scent. I shut my eyes and imagine what it would be like to go down on her...

I walk back outside and there is a party going on. My sister's husband pulls up on his Harley, along with some of his buddies. They have food and kegs of beer.

We're all partying, having a good time when the police show up. They have warrants for some of us for petty offenses. They rope off an area of the beach to corral us in while they send for more cars to take us away.

My warrant is for a robbery where my van was used as a getaway car. I try to reason with the police, explain that I sold the van three months ago to someone else, but they won't listen.

As I'm waiting to be booked, I start talking to one of the bikers. "What do you ride?" he asks.

"I don't own a bike anymore. I used to have a Jap bike years ago, gave it up after a buddy got killed on his. Never did get my Harley, I sometimes wish I did. But now I've got a wife & kid, responsibilities, you know how it goes..." I say.

"You should get a wave runner, you'd like that. It's like riding a motorcycle on the ocean!" he says.

"Yeah, I'll have to try it sometime. You ever fly an ultralight? It's like riding a motorcycle in the sky!" I tell him.

"Yeah, I'll have to try that sometime," he says.

I look down and spot a shiny black pebble in the sand. I pick it up and rub it and my hand starts to itch. I look down, and a small black worm crawls out of my hand, drops to the sand, and quickly slithers away. My hand is itching more now. Three more worms, bigger ones, crawl out of my skin.

I yell to my sister, who is standing outside the holding pen. I tell her to call 911, and tell the police what's happening. By the time the cop comes over to check on me, more worms are crawling out of my hand, and the flesh is being eaten away to the bone. My hand isn't bleeding, the worms have absorbed all the blood. It doesn't even hurt, just itches like mad, and now the itching is speading up my arm. I get this bad feeling that I'm really fucked now.

Other people in the holding pen are now complaining that their hands are itching too. They must have picked up the pebbles. This doesn't look too good here...





© Copyright 2003 RatDog (UN: cyam_01 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
RatDog has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/239552-Yard-Sale-Beach-Party--Black-Worms