It’s good to be alive, she thinks, and the more he bleeds the better life gets.
She’s enjoying herself, watching him bleed on the sidewalk, coffee on his pants, steam coming up. She steps out of her shoes and splashes blood around. Life is good.
He saw her. He turned around and he saw her. She wanted it that way. Look at me, motherfucker.
He came out the deli, coffee in a paper bag. Look at me, motherfucker. She squeezed twice. The noise scared her but his head split like a watermelon and she felt good. His brains came out the back of his head and she felt better. It’s good to be alive, motherfucker.
He went down, coffee spilling on his pants. The coffee smelled fresh. The blood made puddles on the sidewalk. She splashed blood around. Life is good, she thought, knowing it was true.
She should leave, maybe run, but she won’t. She’s enjoying herself, watching him bleed, splashing blood around, thinking happy thoughts.
I won’t leave, she thinks, he’s still bleeding and the more he bleeds the better life gets.
that's one hell of a nasty story! in the nicest possible way, of course.
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