hadn't brushed his teeth in three days, nor shaved
for five, and hadn't had a shower for about twice
as long as that. He stinks, he stinks and he knows
it, hell he stinks and he doesn't really care.
His goatee had thickened since he had stopped
trimming it, bushy and soiled with bits of his
chicken pot pie dinner his stubble was catching
up; almost a weak beard had grown in. His stained
blue shirt wasn't doing much for him either, 'as
long as it hides my pot belly I'll be ok' he thought,
tall and broad shouldered he found it slightly
difficult to move around freely in the back of
knocking surprised Joe and he jumped up and smacked
his head into the roof shaking the van slightly.
"Ow. Yeah, yeah, yeah, gimme a moment,"
Joe said slightly harsher than he intended it
to be, rubbing his head. 'Man, I so hope that
it's not the cops, everything else sucks right
now, all I would need is a ticket and that would
be it, I bet it's a ticket, I know it's a ticket
fucker fuck, fuck, fuck, now what am I going to
do? I'm broke as-- as--' his train of thought
had come halting to an abrupt end when he peered
out the passenger-side window and saw three odd
children peering back at him.
mister," the child in the front started,
"mister? Can you please give us a ride home,
please? Mister?" Joe could do nothing except
stare back at the trio of kids that had come up
to his van.
"leader" is wearing a dark blue hoodie,
has dirty blonde hair, looks to be roughly 13,
the second boy, looks about 11 or 12, around the
same age as the blonde, this one has short brown
hair, and wearing a black t-shirt with a light
jacket, and dark jeans. The girl, third and last,
is wearing black tank-top, black pants, has blackish
lipstick, dark brown hair, has a smoke in her
mouth ('she shouldn't be smoking,' Joe thought),
he noticed that she had on a lot of jewelry including
a cross, very Goth looking where as the boys look
like skaters. Oh yeah, did I mention that it's
November and fucking cold outside? You can't see
their breath nor do they cast a shadow.
looks at the children and just barely cracks open
the window and ask what they want. They ask for
a ride, almost demanding they give him one. "We
need to go home now, our mother is calling us,"
one of them says. Joe reaches for the door; then
looks at his hand, breaking the eye contact; then
to the face of the kid.
got coal black eyes, no white, no pupil, no iris,
us in!" The boy's voice is frantic "We
can't come in unless you say it's ok! Our mother
is calling us, please mister LET US IN!"
fumbles with the clutch, slams it into gear, and
screeches out of there.