They said that once I pulled off this one I'd be done. There'd be no takebacks. No insane demands or stacks of attacks. They said that once I held my end, it'd be done. Turn in my gun. Leaves more time for family and fun. I got a little one.
So I thought. It'd only begun.
How was I to know how it'd all go? The blood on my hands. Shovel in the sand. Body bag and a can. Running on the lam. Is that what they called it, or was it manhunt? I'm thinking maybe the latter. Dogs on a leash, looking to put my head on a platter. Bounty set at six thousand. Is that all I'm worth for real?
I don't just steal. I kill. Killed, let me get that straight. Had to put food on my dinner plate. I got hooked on the kickbacks, and the tricks and the other assorted bits that came with it.
The car's done stopped. Hoping it might be the cops. Laying on my side. They said we gonna take a little ride.
I killed that man, just like they wanted. Now I'm fucked. Just some sort of shit luck that I'd be caught. Strapped with tape. Put in a trunk, probably on the way to some distant deep lake. Concrete shoes to sleep with the fish tonight. Ain't that some shit? All because I let myself keep getting away with it. Or maybe it was they, Them. We. It doesn't matter now. All that matters is exactly how they plan to put me out of it forever. Take and drown me, shoot me or whatever.
Still waiting for them to open the trunk, I gotta pee. Hoping that they'll not see anything wrong with a last stand of dignity. I doubt those fuckers would allow that little bit. I think they just want to see me choke on it. Smell like shit. Get on with it.
Every damn minute I'm in here it's freaking me the hell out. I was hoping that one of those roughnecks would give my kicks the benefit of the doubt. But no luck. This trunk is tight and locked, and oh wait it's moving again, but the engine isn't even on. Something's just a little wrong.
I hear it coming through. Gonna be bad I bet. A whole lot of wet. It feels a little cold too, since they wouldn't let me keep my damn coat.
Holy shit. Cars don't float.
postnote: Received a tweet afterwards from @DanFaust:
danfaust @shadowsinstone Thanks. I liked your post, too. Reminded me a little of this book.
Please take the time to check out the book he is referring to if you enjoyed my work. I support good writers. I'll also do the same.
Carrie, this piece is quite well done. Clever tale and impressively fun. A story like this could have gone the other way, but not this one.
This is great from start to finish, but I really love the assonance of this bit:
"The blood on my hands. Shovel in the sand. Body bag and a can. Running on the lam."
Oh, this was scary for me since I don't really swim!
Scary but still a very good read!
That was truly fantastic! Parts of it were aggressively poetic. If you don't write or read aloud, I'd be surprised, because just reading it I found myself falling into a pretty steady rhythm.
I liked this one. Cool to see something different.
Nice job, Carrie! You really get inside the heads of your characters well. Great work.
I love the sing song rhymes and they have work with the violent story this person is telling. It's like they're singing their own rap of their life and their experience. Wonderfully done my friend. Wonderfully done.
I have a muse that amuses me at times. Part tongue-in-cheek, part serious, Bad Rap is what it is. Everyone, even the guy in the trunk that is sinking to the bottom of a lake, has a story.
Thanks everyone. I was iffy about this one, but the muse said fuck it. =)
Another great piece, as always! You can feel his fear ramping up.
How can anyone not fall in love with this story?
It's dark. The main character is showing his "soul" to say. And the rhymes are spectacular.
I'm going to go and read it again. . .
That's some damn good writing. None of it felt forced or shoehorned into place and it was tense. Frickin great.
Very well done Carrie. You did an amazing job with the emotion. Definitely one that begs to be read again and again.
It went completely naturally as well - perfect.
I didn't quite read it as rap, but then I'm not sure what I would read it as....
Great stuff, and humourous as well.
Working with this sort of thing *and* making it work has to be one of the hardest things ever!
Shows there is no getting out of the "business." Great story!
well done! Impressive story, moreso that it rhymed.
Great post. This is very well done.
I hope you're having a nice weekend.
I love this, it feels experimental and free. Part grit, part heart and all art! Wonderful :-)
Even the title is just perfect. What a great piece of inventive creative work. If writing doesn't work out, you've got a future in rap. But something about this story says you've definitely got a future in writing. Thanks for sharing it!
Bad means good
'less y'r in the trunk of a car,
not out on the hood,
takin' a wet ride 'n stuck
- I don’t mean to be lame,
but that’s good for a duck
and comin’ on like a truck
down E-highway Main
The Writer don’t suck,
I mean she got game,
not to be misunderstood,
but she’s so bad it’s good.
You guys are cracking me up with your responses. Yes, the title is a pun. Yes, it's horrid, but eh. The muse apparently thought he was in a 4:20 .357 special, the big dork. What can I say? If you're not having fun, then why the hell are you doing it?
Thanks again everyone.
This sounds great. I think it's even better out loud. I liked the poetic feel. Great job.
Mixing rhythm and rhyme into prose -- cool.
Great rhythm and rhyming! Good suspense as well. I like it that the speaker has a sense of humor throughout, but it's not shoved in your face.
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