I've Had All I Can Stand

[mr_fancher]

Henry Garcia spooned with no one. He lay on his side in his comfortable spooning position--right arm straight up underneath the pillow, left arm draped over…nothing. There was no one to drape over, and in Garcia's twin bed, very little room to drape anyway. Nothing but his gut. The beer gut that had developed over the last few months as he

Comments

[rengetsu]

this is like the first four paragraphs of a great short story. I was sad when I got to the end, because it felt like a good momentum was going with an abrupt stop at the end. Like perhaps I might found out at some point later on in the story, at some crucial crossroads, why he doesn't wear socks at night... was there a lover in his past who made him wear socks and only socks? did his mother always make him take them off? is it just another strange personal preference? hmm.

also, the beer gut description is great, LOL.

[rengetsu]

since i suck at writing southern gothic short stories, i'm telling you: there's a guy, lost his job in the recession, and he's contemplating "shit or get off the pot" in the context of suicide.

GO. xP