Never Again
Short Story
by Matthew Smith
It's about time. He said, as the smoke swirled down to his
feet before the wind caught it and sent it up towards the sky, black as
tar and hot as fire.
Yep, it s about time, I'll be there soon.
He walked further down the path, down towards Country Road. There was
something in the way he walked- a little swagger, a bounce in his hip.
It told you that he was heading for something, something that he had
waited for for a long time.
The sound of the preacher could now be heard in the distance. He took
another long drag of his knockoff Havana before realizing that the
sheep may smell it. He ducked it real quick and started chewing on it
uselessly, and with joy.
Yes, yes it s almost time. He said with a dark smile, almost a
grimace.
They won't treat me that way again. Never again.
He picked up his feet a little quicker now and with a little more
bounce in his step. He went to take another drag off of his cigar, and
laughed at himself when he realized it wasn't lit.
In the distance now, he could see the dancing lights from the torches;
hear the rhythmic sound of the preacher's voice going up and down and
up and down and up and down. He could see all those people, all those
sheep, dancing like the torches. He could hear the amens and the
hallelujahs and he knew, he knew that it was almost time. That it would
never happen again, not on Country Road, not anywhere.
To hell with it. He lit the cigar again. The acrid smell of the
phosphorus burnt the hair in his nose, and, singed the edge of his
already blistered soul. He was now close enough to see the color of their
hair. They couldn't see him, and he got worried about the fire on the
end of his cigar and cupped it on the inside of his hand.
They were too busy, too busy to notice, too busy listening to the
voice of the preacher like they were snakes and he was the charmer and they
were coming out of the basket and every time his voice when up they
went up and when it went down, they when down.
It was time; time for reprisal, time for joy, time for farewell, time
for his painlessness, and time for their pain.
He lit another match.
Never Again© COPYRIGHT 2004 Matthew Smith. Reproduction prohibited without permission from the author. 11/17/04
