So I wasn't sure what I should blog about today – Hank wanted me to do a
flash and a whole buncha people wanted the dirt on my fellow SO
writers...hehe...but then a most wise and handsome person (um...that would be
Lee *winks*) reminded me that *head thumps* Duh! You have a release coming out
this week by the name of Judging Jude!
Not sure if ya'll remember a little story I did with the Monday
prompts...started it in January of 2012...and now it is finally finished and
coming to you hopefully *crosses fingers...toes...and legs* wow—that's a new
experience for me...hopefully coming out this week!
So here is a snippet (hey Hank...it is close to a flash...lol) and I
promise the next time I'm up on the blog I will bring you updates on all your
fave writers...I love digging around in their drawers for info...um...*looks
around and winks* oh yeah... :)
So without any further
delay
...for your reading
pleasure...
Judging Jude
"Happy fucking New Year to me," Judas mumbled to the
empty apartment. He plopped down on his leather sofa, a rip in the material
stabbing at his skin, again. "Son of a bitch!" He popped back up and
grabbed the dark green duct tape from a water-warped hutch's drawer. He had
bought the durable tape specifically for this purpose.
Judas put the roll on his wrist like a bracelet and ripped
a length off, mending the dilapidated furniture. When finished, he tossed the
roll to the ground and surveyed his work. The duct tape was becoming more
prominent on the couch than the leather.
Sighing, he took his place back on the sofa and reached
under it for the flat, sandwich-shaped plastic container he kept his smoking
accessories in. He should probably grab the want ads and circle job offers with
his trusty red pen, but what for? He wasn't qualified for anything, and his
present job, though shitty as it was, at least kept his pipe filled with spice and,
oh yeah, a leaky roof over his head.
You would think working at a doctor's office would be cool
and profitable. Yeah, not if you cleaned the exam rooms and toted out the
garbage. Sure, they let him keep his piercings in—both ears and an eyebrow—and they
didn't give him a hard time about his tats—namely because they were good tats,
not that shit that people get from a hack or when they're drunk...but, he only made
a whole two bucks over minimum wage. At just under thirty hours a week, Jude smoked
that up faster than his checks got cashed. No, the real money landed in the job's
fringe benefits. It amazed Jude how much people would pay for a few blank
prescription papers with the doc's signature stamp on them. He never took a
whole pad; they were always locked up anyway. But between the three doctors, Jude
could walk out of there on a good day with at least a couple dozen ripped off pages.
Getting them stamped proved the easy part, none of the doctors locked their
desk drawers during the business day, and it was his job to clean the offices.
That plus the free samples he pocketed on the rare occasion
those cabinets weren't shut down tight and he just barely got by. He might have
been a thief, but he played it cool and careful like. He never went after
anything they kept strict count on; the records for the free samples were never
up-to-date. The pads were inventoried, but once a doctor pulled one out, the
papers on that pad were fair game.
He packed his pipe with the last of his Mr. Swell Guy spice and took a hit,
grimacing when it burned going down. He still preferred the real deal to this
crap, but at least this crap was legal right now and didn't show up on drug
tests. Well, legal to buy, but illegal to smoke—he never understood how that
worked.
Placing the pipe to his lips, he flicked his lighter and
inhaled deeply. A banging on his apartment door caused him to jump while
simultaneously hacking on the smoke as he dropped the pipe.
"What the fuck?" he mumbled, then coughed out as
loud as he could, "Go the fuck away!" Not a person on this planet
existed that he wanted to see right now. Hell, there wasn't anyone he wanted to
see later either.
"Open the fucking door, or I'll knock it in. And,
Jude, you know I will!"
The universe hated him, he realized as he listened to his
ex-best friend's voice growling on the other side of the door.
"Go the fuck away, Wally! I thought I told you I
didn't want to fucking see you around here anymore!"
Louder banging this time. Jude could actually see the door
bowing in its frame. "Damn cheap-ass building." He quickly threw
everything back in the plastic container, cringing at the last of his spice
that spilled out of his pipe to imbed itself in the stained old carpet. He
wouldn't be able to make any money for another four days to get more, and even
then only if he could snag some script papers from work and contact his buyer.
"I'm not leaving, so you might as well open this door,
or you could let your neighbors call the cops on me and deal with that mess,"
Wally shouted to him.
"I'm coming, you big oaf!" He snapped the
container shut and tossed it under the couch, then placed a dingy throw pillow
on the spice dusted carpet with plans to pick it out after he got rid of his
unwanted guest.
"Don't try to sweet talk me. Now, open this damn
door!"
"Hardy har har, asshole." Judas unbolted the door
and swung it open. "Didn't I tell you to take a fucking hike the last time
you sniffed around here?"
His back slammed against the wall as Wally pushed past him
and surveyed the room, inhaling deeply. "Christ's sake, Jude. You work in
a doctor's office, you should know better than to smoke that shit."
"You ain't my mother. What the fuck you doing here
anyway? It's New Year's Eve, don't you have a party to go to or something?"
Jude noted the flat-front chinos, blue pin dot button down shirt, and leather
bomber jacket. Oh yeah, this would be a short visit. Wally definitely had his
prowling clothes on tonight.
"Yep, so that's what you're wearing?"
Jude shook his head. "Huh? I ain't going nowhere with
you." To cement his point, he walked to the fridge in his studio apartment
and grabbed a can of beer, popping the top then drinking half of it down in one
swig. "Ahh."
"That's impressive; you gonna flex and belch next? You
have two choices here. You either get changed into what you want to wear or you
go with me in those stained, frayed jeans and tank. Do I need to remind you
that it's forty degrees outside and those jeans passed sexy five holes
ago?"
Wally walked his way. At six feet three inches, he beat Jude's
own five-nine on the formidability scale.
"You want to test my word, Judas? Give your neighbors
a show while I drag your ass out to my car? Twenty bucks says not a one of them
will interfere because that would mean they would have to talk to the cops. We
both know no one who lives here would openly volunteer for that."
Jude backed up until his ass hit the counter. "You
just said they would call the cops if you kept banging on my door." He
pointed out Wally's contradiction.
Wally shrugged and stopped only inches from him. "You
opened the door, didn't you? Sue me for lying. Now, what's your choice?"
"Why's it so important to you? We aren't even friends
anymore."
Wally grabbed him by his shoulders, jerked him around, and
pushed him toward his closet. "Much to your dismay, dipshit, I'll always
be your best friend. I'm not the type to just ditch someone because he wants to
flush his life away. Now change into something nice; it's New Year’s! Tonight's
the beginning of the rest of your life."
"Whatever. But I was just gonna hang out here for New Year’s
and bum around."
"And that is why you need to get your ass out of this
godforsaken place."
Hank Edwards knows how to put you in the mood...and not just the holiday mood *winks* 
And Lee Brazil is a must have year round...but when the weather turns cooler and the mistletoe is in abundance I especially can't help reaching for him to keep me warm and toasty...*sighs*
And then there is lil ol' moi...*curtsies*
