STORIES OF RAY LORIGA CHAINS: FIN Here are three recent stories with the story culminating in parts Ray has been published in the
Loriga Man Magazine THE COMPLETE STORY:
THE END, FOR NOW (I) MAY DIE OF COLD (II) IN THE FOREST (III) LRR LOCA (IV) NIGHT WAS A VERY STRANGE (V) NADA MALO (VI) a different life (VII) ZIG ZAG
(VIII) SECOND (IX) POISONED HEART (X) plastic roses (XI) SEND THE GIRL (XII) X. POISONED HEART
And a second later it was over. The man with the knife lying on the floor on his own blood. The beautiful woman comforted the child brave. The waiter came back to put the shotgun under the bar from the cafeteria without a car and the driver smoked a cigarette. Sometimes in life, everything is linked together, everything fits perfectly into the fabric of misfortune. As happens with miracles. A series of synchronized small fortunes almost by chance can solve the most obscure of problems whistling as he walks through a maze that, for once, leading to the exit door. Sometimes life takes pains to save with the same tenacity that made and will, on many other occasions, with the sole purpose of destroy. Either that, or marksmanship.
What strip?, Had asked the driver to the bartender, while the murderer held the blade of his knife with the pupil of the girl.
Pretty good, had answered the waiter, without any assumptions.
I give the rabbits in the undergrowth. Rabbits are small and very fast, had answered the driver.
And yet the waiter was afraid because he was a man prudent.
And the baby?, Had asked as he carried the gun into his face for pointing.
Breeding is brave. Know what to do.
And it was. A second before the shot sounded, she bent down, turned the knife on the eye of anyone, without blood, and the murderer was dead before they know what the hell was going on.
Beautiful woman rushed to embrace the brave girl. The driver went to make sure he was okay. Hair gently away from the face of the girl and looked into his eyes. Not a scratch.
not always get things right, but when going well, glad. The driver lit a cigarette and kicked a little dead to the tip of the shoe to make sure he was dead and that would not rise as the murderers of bad movies.
The horror, when it ends, it becomes anything. Always be remembered for the misfortunes that happen, and are remembered with bitterness, but that does not happen is the end of the wind. Many people had died during the past two days, but no one knew or had the driver why mourn. They were not dead. The woman was alive, she, too, the waiter was, indeed, a hunter first.
should not be easy to hit a rabbit at dawn among the branches. Shooting a murderer in the face either, but it is conceivable that whoever kills the small and fast, you can also big and slow.
Who was that?, I had never seen here, asked the waiter.
I think he was passing, "said the conductor.
The woman looked at the shoes of the dead. They were the shoes he had seen at the party behind the curtain.
is the monster that sneaks into the party, he said.
Yes, "replied the driver.
Maybe I was, she said.
Surely not, he said, because there are people killing each other without having to go after anyone in particular. I guess they believe the wrath of God or something. The murderers tend to have very strange ideas about themselves. Any idiot with a knife is believed to be part of a mission, or a legend, murderers give many turns to those things. Guess who spend too much time alone.
I also spent much time alone, "said the girl, and I've never killed anyone.
is a matter of heart, he said, there are people who have been poisoned.
suddenly realized that at last he no longer had a headache. There's nothing like the roar of a shot to finish waking up once. He felt that things were arranged with a certain calmness. He thought he had only carried the woman finally to its destination, and maybe take care of that child, so that everyone would back an order acceptable.
likes to imagine something ordered.
Maybe we should clean all this, the driver said.
The waiter left the gun under the bar and went for a bucket and mop.
XI. Plastic roses
The driver touched the clothes of the dead looking for car keys. When he found them, he asked the waiter what was going to do with the corpse. I
commission, said the waiter, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, as if he killed every day disappear.
Go away ... added, and do as this has not happened.
Thanks, "said the girl.
left the cafeteria as a family, but barely knew. The driver, a woman and the girl did not have in common more than a series of crimes committed by a man who had died. And yet the driver felt good on his company ... It sometimes happens that among strangers is created for a moment the illusion of closeness and comfort, it does not really exist. Or maybe it's the contrary, perhaps the reality, the territory known normal and tells us things about ourselves that are not completely true.
opened the van, she sat and the woman behind and he front. She was glad to again have a car but the car was a mass murderer. At the end of the day was a driver and that's all that was, without a car and nowhere to go, it was nothing.
The girl found on the floor a bouquet of roses.
are plastic, said with some annoyance. I had never seen a bouquet of plastic roses. Actually I had never seen a bouquet of roses. "I can keep it?
I guess so, she said.
Before starting, the driver thought to go. I could not take the girl to her home because there were only butchered bodies of his father and brother. I'll take care of her forever, he thought. And the idea did not seem so bad. As for women, again leaving the city, in the exact place where he had collected. That's what you like about your work, keep people healthy and save it somewhere and not see them anymore. I wish I could put everything in one place to never see him again. I wish he could not think back on what has been thought. I wish he could bury the dead and forget their names. I wish he could forget the kisses, the looks, everything has been done and the reasons we moved to do so. I wish he could live without the memory of the experience.
The driver realized he had nothing it worth while to save and also realized that his job was to lead others and abandon them. He wondered if he could take care of that child and whether it would be best to find a safe place far away from him. He wondered what kind of man he was and why the hell could not host any of the emotions considered normal. No fear, no anxiety, no anger, no hope, no nostalgia, nor love, nor even a small interest in it were for his past or his future. He wondered if he was alive and finally concluded that yes, but in a very rare.
While leaving the station and took the highway, think what it would be for others this business of living. Where they got the strength and enthusiasm.
The woman said something I did not listen. The girl sang a little song, the trees cast a shadow short noon. Life, his life was over long ago that he could not say when. As a child he dreamed of something, something I wanted to do or someone who wanted to be more, but I was older and it was nothing.
driving is distracted, looking at the lines on the road and tried not to think about anything else.
Why does this woman had kissed? Would you kiss him back? Probably not. It took that idea. Looked at the woman but she knew it and wanted everything to be very different. That he had yet another kiss. Absurd that this day will follow a better one, but do not believe deserve it.
plastic roses for a dead man.
The road stretched while driving. Never arrive anywhere.
XII. SEND GIRLS My grandmother lives within fifty miles from here, you can leave at home, she will take good care.
He had imagined capable of caring for the child but had imagined many things that never happen.
Do not you want to your house, asked the woman.
In my house there is nothing said breeding. My father and brother are dead.
How do you know, I ask him.
Because I asked him to kill them, "replied the girl. And then he began to look, distracted, out the window, as children do when they have been considered settled an issue that has nothing more to say.
The driver calmly accepted it, was used to accept everything that was strange. The beautiful woman, however, was not willing to forget the fear that had happened in the last hours. He did not like being scared and did not like that does not give explanations. It was the kind of woman who demands explanations without feeling obliged to give them. Some women are so very beautiful.
What happened in the house, at that party? Why did you kill those people? "Was it your idea?
Yes and no, the girl said. I met this man in the forest and told me he was a murderer and I laughed and told him that I believed it and he said he would show me and I told him that the house outside the forest were partying with models and rich and actresses and people that I liked and that he could kill and drive there in the snow Dozen, knew it was really a murderer and that he had done for me and then let him kill my father and my brother and I would go with him.
She paused, a little bored with her own history, before continuing.
While that part was not true. I did not think to go with him, I just wanted to kill my father and my brother because he beat me and I did other things and I was eager to go with my grandmother, who loves me and cares for me well.
're all crazy, she said angrily.
The driver did not dare to tell who was crazy and who is not, nor was he thought he was crazy get away with it when everything is against you and are much smaller than the size of your problems. It seemed, On the contrary, that she was very sane and it was the sea of \u200b\u200blists. He had never been able to get others to do what they wanted. In fact, neither has ever had even know what the hell I wanted.
Where does your grandmother? "He asked.
Thirty miles in a straight line, said breeding. I notice you when the detour.
Perfect, he thought, finally someone told him where to go. That was his job. Would not have to think about anything else.
She closed her eyes. I wanted to fall asleep and wake up in the city, when everything had happened, and surely also wanted re not remember any of this, maybe even had other things to remember.
Some beautiful women easily forget what does not come out quite right and are not to blame for it.
The driver, however, was sentenced to remember everything. His life was not full of memorable episodes, and it was quite unable to forget a crime, or a kiss.
FIN
