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Cold Feet
Cold Feet (Lexington Avenue Express - Short Fiction)
"DAMNIT!" the old woman screeched. "Why the hell don't you never keep no food in this damn house? You tryin' to starve me boy?" she snarled, crunching a fistful of chips, crumbs falling generously on the front of the soiled nightgown she wore.
Forty-one years Duane Castor had spent in this house with his mother, just the two of them since his father left without a word in '79. Duane, Sr. had vanished on an ordinary Tuesday morning and his son grew ever more envious of his absent sire.
"Where you goin'?" Minnie snarled. Her eyes narrowed as Duane turned to leave.
"To my workshop, Momma; I have work to do. I need to put another coat of varnish on Mrs. Cole's antique bureau before I deliver it tomorrow and I finally received the parts I need to repair my band-saw. I have a full-day ahead of me."
"Humph," Minnie Castor snorted, "turn that heat up before you go, you tryin' to freeze me to death?" she asked in a tone of disgust before turning her attention to Judge Judy.
"It's supposed to warm up some today," Duane said dreamily, his gaze shifting to the window and the fresh, sparkling snow covering the front lawn. The glittering mantle brought him inexplicable joy, a fleeting happiness so tangible he stood motionless for a moment savoring the small comfort it afforded him.
"Don't plan on using the snow as an excuse for not drivin' me to the store," she said, her tone cold, unyielding. "We're damn near out of everything, I ain't got not cheezees, I ain't got no ice cream, I ain't got no--
"Yes, yes, we'll go this evening," he interrupted. "We'll go like always but right now I've got an antique shop to run and—“
"ANTIQUE SHOP!” she screeched. “More like a junk-repair shop if you wanna’ know what I think. And don't you go cuttin' me off when I'm talkin', boy. Not as long as your livin' under my roof."
"DAMNIT!" the old woman screeched. "Why the hell don't you never keep no food in this damn house? You tryin' to starve me boy?" she snarled, crunching a fistful of chips, crumbs falling generously on the front of the soiled nightgown she wore.
Forty-one years Duane Castor had spent in this house with his mother, just the two of them since his father left without a word in '79. Duane, Sr. had vanished on an ordinary Tuesday morning and his son grew ever more envious of his absent sire.
"Where you goin'?" Minnie snarled. Her eyes narrowed as Duane turned to leave.
"To my workshop, Momma; I have work to do. I need to put another coat of varnish on Mrs. Cole's antique bureau before I deliver it tomorrow and I finally received the parts I need to repair my band-saw. I have a full-day ahead of me."
"Humph," Minnie Castor snorted, "turn that heat up before you go, you tryin' to freeze me to death?" she asked in a tone of disgust before turning her attention to Judge Judy.
"It's supposed to warm up some today," Duane said dreamily, his gaze shifting to the window and the fresh, sparkling snow covering the front lawn. The glittering mantle brought him inexplicable joy, a fleeting happiness so tangible he stood motionless for a moment savoring the small comfort it afforded him.
"Don't plan on using the snow as an excuse for not drivin' me to the store," she said, her tone cold, unyielding. "We're damn near out of everything, I ain't got not cheezees, I ain't got no ice cream, I ain't got no--
"Yes, yes, we'll go this evening," he interrupted. "We'll go like always but right now I've got an antique shop to run and—“
"ANTIQUE SHOP!” she screeched. “More like a junk-repair shop if you wanna’ know what I think. And don't you go cuttin' me off when I'm talkin', boy. Not as long as your livin' under my roof."
22 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 26, 2013
8 people want to read
About the author
Jess Butcher
49 books2 followersJESS Butcher is the author of three Mike Bishop novels, SUN DOG, SIDEWINDER REQUIEM, and MULESHOE. In addition, Butcher has published FINAL THOUGHTS and 17, short fiction anthologies that feature titles from his Lexington Avenue Express series.
All of Butcher's titles are available on the Kindle e-Reader; SUN DOG, SIDEWINDER REQUIEM, MULESHOE and FINAL THOUGHTS are also available in Paperback.
Please note: Lexington Avenue Express and Canal Street Station titles are short fiction. These short story titles range from 1,200 to 4,000 words in length.
You may contact Jess Butcher by email at:
jessbutcher.home@gmail.com
www.jessbutcher-author.com.
All of Butcher's titles are available on the Kindle e-Reader; SUN DOG, SIDEWINDER REQUIEM, MULESHOE and FINAL THOUGHTS are also available in Paperback.
Please note: Lexington Avenue Express and Canal Street Station titles are short fiction. These short story titles range from 1,200 to 4,000 words in length.
You may contact Jess Butcher by email at:
jessbutcher.home@gmail.com
www.jessbutcher-author.com.
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
October 27, 2015
A mystery with a macabre touch - Like the author recommend him for those who like this genre.
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