Calling in Sick

She said her name was “Maggie”.

“Brad,” I said, thinking, My first ever Maggie...

We were walking on a trail empty of people high above the ocean on a windy Monday morning. She told me it was her day off. I admitted it was such a nice day I had called in sick.

There was a seal rockery below us. We could see scattered little black blobs on the wet sand near the water and beyond that an ocean awash in whitecaps and further out the oil-rigs, and finally the Channel Islands looking crystal clear and close enough to swim to.

“I hear baby seals are delicious!” I said.

“Oh, you’re so bad!” She laughed a high-pitched seagull laugh and playfully slapped my shoulder.

I smiled, but for different reasons entirely.

I kissed her then. Her brown eyes went darker, almost black for a moment, and I was sure she had sensed the danger, but her eyes closed and we were kissing again with our tongues involved this time and Maggie on her tip-toes.

My eyes swiped along the trail as her slimy tongue swirled inside my mouth; nobody was around.

“Stop it, Brad,” she tried pushing me away. I held her tight and tighter still, my excitement growing with the struggle.

"That isn't my real name." I said, my chloroform rag now out of it’s plastic bag, “It’s Danny--”

Her knee came up with ball-exploding power and I found myself in the dirt.

“Danny, mother-fucking Givens” she said, then there were cops, many of them, and my arms were cuffed and I was lifted to my feet. All I could see was Maggie’s face inches from my own. She kept calling me a “perverted bastard” and asking over and over if I wanted to know her real name.

300 Words--