Afternoon Interlude

by Lloyd B. Abrams

After, atop a threadbare army blanket,

Benny lit two Marlboros and gave one to Rosalita.

She took a drag. “I shouldn’t, ya know.”

But Benny was lost in thought as he blew smoke rings into the sky. It amazed him how loud it was – kids yelling, those fuckin trucks, car alarms.

“This roof is a shit hole. Why do you always wanna come up here?” Benny asked. “Your place, with the bed and all gotta be nicer than this.”

“You know why, Benny. It’s Hector. He’d kill us both if he found out.”

“How would he find out? Nobody ain’t never seen us together.”

“All it takes is that old puta in 2C. Or the junkie and his maricón up in 3B. They might say something … ya know … just b’cause.”

“Rosie … it’s just that ...”

“Waddya saying? You don’t wanna see me no more?” She reached over and gently started stroking him.

“Oh, man,” Benny said with a moan. “You better not. I don’t think I can. It’s already so sore.”

Rosa stubbed out her cigarette, slid down his body, and took him in her mouth.

Once again, Benny became deaf to the world around.

– This story, originally written in 2010, was resurrected from my “Works in Progress” folder

Originally written / August 23, 2010 .. Rev 4 / April 23, 2020

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April 23, 2020 … Copyright © 2020, Lloyd B. Abrams