Day 267 – Zero Cares – Short Story

“It’s not that I don’t care, so, don’t get me wrong, I mean, I do, I really fucking do, but, well, I have to do this for me,” he says, staring at his reflection in the mirror, he turns to a young, blonde, blue eyed girl who is sitting on the bed behind him, and smiles nervously. “H-H-How did that sound?” He asks, as he runs his dry tongue, along him dry lips, and tries to swallow.

“Well, it wasn’t terrible, I just don’t know what you’re trying to achieve through all this?” She says, as she tightens her lips together, and raises an eyebrow, trying to do her best thinking impression.

“What? You know exactly what I’m trying to do, hell, you’re in the same boat, right? I mean, I’m not doing this alone, we agreed it was together, or not at all, so don’t you try to back out on me now, because it…”

She beings to giggle, as she flops onto the bed on her back, “God, you’re so easy,” she says.

“Cut it out Mary, I’m already nervous enough, don’t make me any more, or I swear, I’ll throw up, or something worse.”

She laughs loudly, “Something worse? What could be worse than throwing up?”

“I don’t know, but if you keep going on like this, I’m sure we’re going ot find out,” he says, his cheeks now bright red, and a furious sweat running down his brow.

“Okay, okay, I promise, no more kidding around, I’m going to be miss professional from here on in,” she says, holding one hand up in the air, and the other pressing firmly in the center of her chest.

“Thank you,” he says, as he turns back to the mirror, and clears his throat once more, she leaps to her feet, and wraps her arms around him, and kisses him on the cheek.

“you’re welcome lover boy, but, we’ve got to be going, timing is important with this, you know that,” she says as she grabs a backpack from the floor and reaches inside, pulling out a large , black handled blade, then looks up at him. “Should I take the black or the brown handled one?” she asks.

“Does it matter?”

“Of course it does, I want to look coordinated when we do this,” she says with a wicked grin.




Published by

Matthew Tonks

People are surprised when reading Matthew’s stories that he’s a sane forty something year old, happily married, father of one, employed full time and dream of dark disturbing things that any sane person would never even contemplate thinking of. But it's true, he’s toyed with writing for most of his adult life, but has always found the peg a writer must fit into is not the shape he wished to be. His writing can be described as lamenting, long, concussive (yes it smashes you in the head), compulsive, and stuffed with rhythmic communication and violence, let’s not forget the violence. His own opinion on his writing is this, “You see, I don't just want the words to seep into your mind, but into your soul, showing you images of blood and beauty through, volatile language, violence, sex, love and sin. My muse takes different shapes, and every now and then you can see her shining her wicked smile in some of my stories, tempting you with her promises, but ripping your heart out instead.” So have a look, and take a seat in my wayward ride, as you join me while I purge through, this twisted road of madness.

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