Impasse

2008-02-06T20:39:44Z

She still looked angry, but I didn’t care.

“In the last five hours, lady, I’ve been thrown out of a hotel, rescued Monty again, stabbed in the leg and hit by a car. And this hasn’t even been that bad of a trip, so if you think-”

Her gun dropped to the ground as her lips crashed into mine, and I could taste the cheap tequila she’d just been drinking. God I had missed her.

As I pulled away, still enjoying her kiss, she stepped back and I saw that she was holding my wallet. She picked up the revolver, flicked off the dust and winked.

“Monty didn’t need rescuing, and you’re in deeper trouble than you think.” She glared at me. “You should have left things be in Spain. Now-”

Her gorgeous blue eyes barely registered surprise as the bullet ripped through my shoulder.

Fifteen Ways to Leave Mexico

2008-02-06T18:27:20Z

When I finally opened my eyes, the glare of the sun made me wince. Pulling myself up so I could lean against the cool adobe wall behind me, I felt sharp pain shoot up my leg where the knife had cut.

“Where the hell am I,” I thought, “and who was driving that ugly-ass Impala?”

I stood up, and nearly cut myself on shattered glass next to me.

“Bastard made me drop my beer.”

I allowed myself a cruel smile, then walked down a dusty road that led to a small building, and a pickup truck idling outside. Maybe there’s a phone there.

As I approached the door, Clarissa walk out. She was lovely as always, over-dressed for wherever the hell we were, and pointing a revolver at my head.

“Well hello, Robert,” she said, holding the gun perfectly steady, “I was hoping I might have a chance to screw you over for leaving me in that rat hole bar in Seville.”

Higgs' Stories

Impasse

Fifteen Ways to Leave Mexico