Killer-Extras: Flash Fiction
Pull on your best latex and head out for a hell of a sweltering ride in the desert with a story by Karen LaRocca!
Tia Goes Pop
By Karen LaRocca
Tia is blue by Albuquerque.
Gone cold and stiff. Tia blue, straining against PVC. I drift.
Stop to ask for directions. Buy blankets and a rope. I pull her
from the trunk, careful to hold up her head. I kiss her. Gentle,
but electricity jolts my skin. Like we're magnets, Tia and me. I
can't help it, tears roll down my face. I am so fucking tired.
And I don't want to say goodbye. I want to keep her warm, keep
her with me.
She's all I have left.
***
Tia's all angles. All awkward limbs and bones jutting into me
when we dance, fuck. Plastic softens her, makes her mine. I rub
sheer gloss onto her lips. Fingering the gel, I mould her hair
into fat, round curls. I dress her in the outfit. Sleek.
Wet-looking -- my creation. The vinyl gives her figure a curve.
Fleshes out her hips and thighs like sausage casing. Tie me
tighter Tia tells me. I lace her PVC pants. I am yours. A gift.
She shines.
***
We drive. And then we stop. I look at her. Tia wrapped in
plastic. Tia
dancing. She slithers out in the desert, a snake. Seductive. She
sweats, her skin synthetic.
Dance with me, Tia says. It's a beautiful day to dance in the
desert. D'ya hear the coyote mamas? Listen...I smell orange-sun,
see the waves in the sand and floating rock and I'm --
We have to go.
I don't want to go.
You're really fucking fried, love, I say to her. And she is. And
I am.
Ecstasy. We've got to head out soon if we're gonna make that --
I hear it! My heartbeat...thousands of desert heartbeats.
Crashing. Music! I hear the lizard blood! I feel it! Dance with
me! Hold me! Come!
Dance with me!
I dance with her. Crazy lovely Tia. Lightly spun baby, warm in
her exotic
skins. We sway, limb to limb. My arms around plastic, heat.
Tia's ribcage
jail. I dream I can hear inside her head, feel inside her heart.
My own
music. We whirl and spin, raise our hands, our faces to the sky.
The sun
***
Top's down on the convertible. We drive past a cactus, another.
Sagebrush.
Our wild women yelps echo off distant canyons. Arizona. Nevada.
Long roads.
Dusty air sticks in our throats, stings our eyes, but we don't
care because we're moving, moving and my girl, my love sits
beside --
The rest of this story is no longer on our website, but will be available for purchase Summer 2009 with the release of our annual anthology!
Killer-words: Year One
Tiny Slices of Darkness
It will feature all the fiction stories posted on the site this year (including the rest of this one), brand new stories, a year in review, some of our best articles, original art, and more!
If you are interested in pre-ordering copies of the book please send an email to
jude@killer-works.com
Bio Bits:
A one-time music writer for two Ottawa-based entertainment
weeklies,
Karen LaRocca is now an Associate Literary Agent working with
screenwriters and directors. She still manages to string words
together here and there as a freelance writer. Her
"micro-fiction" has
appeared in issues of the literary journal, Blood and Aphorisms
and in
Broken Pencil, and she has published several articles in the
Globe and
Mail.
To head back for more Flash Fiction click
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