Dead Sea Debt

The weight of debt… is soul crushing. 

Like the Marina Trench. The deepest part has millions tons of pressure. That’s what it feels like to have debt pressing on me. But debt isn’t just that you owe, it’s the want. The desire. The greed. The street lights appear darker to me when out for an evening stroll. You can become reckless. What’s driving without a seatbelt? How much more damage could I owe? How much more money could I throw on top of this debt? Maybe I should cause the police to chase me. Land myself on the 6 o’clock news complete with aerial footage. I hear they charge you interest on the fuel they used for you from the helicopter.

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Julia & Josh

“Nice of you to come back,” Julia said in the corner of the sun room with her arms crossed. “Where were you?”

“Seeing what was left of my kitchen,” Christian said, dragging a chair behind him. The day had worn him down and bags hung under his eyes. 

“Oh? You weren’t asking him his side of the story first,” Julia snapped. 

“Does it matter,” Christian asked lazily. 

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Josh & Julia

“Sit down and shut up,” Christian yelled after he threw Josh down into a wooden chair. Josh’s shoe hovered in the air as he tried to balance himself and get back up again. Christian pointed him down until he relaxed.

“Look, I gotta catch a flight,” Josh pled.

“I said shut up!”

“Am I under arrest, officer,” Josh asked snidely.

Christian side eyed him. “Ha ha,” he answered dryly. “Just relax, all right,” he said with a reassuring hand. Anita entered the room with a knitted frown. “Where is she,” Christian asked her.

“She’s in the sun room,” Anita answered. 

“I don’t need to be here,” Josh said, fixing his slightly burnt collared dress shirt.

“Josh, I’m not going to tell you again,” Christian said with his palm extended to silence him.

“I’m not the one who screwed up,” Josh said, smoothing his wet singed hair back.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you didn’t set fire to my kitchen,” Christian roared. “Now,” he said in a calmer tone. “I could press charges. I could call the police. But I’m not going to do that. I want one simple thing. I want you to tell me what happened.”  Continue reading “Josh & Julia”

CONTINUE?

 A little over twelve minutes remained on the clock. 

“How many minutes left?”

“Ten minutes. Maybe.”

Luther pressed his wristwatch for a ten minute timer. Luther stood at one side of the dark, damp stone cellar while James was ok the opposite end. Both were decked in military gear, covered in sweat and dirt. Luther stood upright, peeling off his gear, piece by piece. James crouched down, wringing his hands together.

“This will be the longest ten minutes of your life, boy,” Luther said, with a wry grin.

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