Black Petals Issue #79 Spring, 2017

Cellmates

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Mars-News, Views and Commentary
Cellmates-Fiction by Roy Dorman
Drogol the Nosophorous and the Calf of Man-Fiction by Mike Mulvihill
Feral Rage-Fiction by Dave Anderson
First Bite-Fiction by Jeff Dosser
For Sale-Fiction by Dave Anderson
Get Some Shelter-Fiction by Roy Dorman
Last Leg-Fiction by Dave Anderson
Surviving Montezuma, Ch. 7 & 8-Continuing Fiction by Kenneth James Crist
Turbulent Silence-Fiction by George Economou
3 Haiku by William Landis
A Mother's Delight-Poem by Liz McAdams
4 Poems by Brendan McBreen

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Cellmates

 

By Roy Dorman

 

Hungry for more

 

 

The door opened and a burly guard pushed Robert Cole into the cell.

“Hey, I’m Bobby; Bobby Cole,” he said to the naked man sitting on the bottom bunk.

“Lucas.”

“They took your clothes too? What’s up with that?”

Lucas pointed to each of the cameras mounted in the four corners of the cell.

“Hey, no offense, but I’m no homo. I ain’t performin’ for a bunch of sickos.”

“You have no idea,” said Lucas.

“No idea about what?”

“About how sick they are,” said Lucas, motioning to one of the cameras.

Bobby shrugged. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, he had a short attention span. “So, I’m in for armed robbery. I got five to seven for knockin’ off a convenience store. What’d they get you on?”

“Murder.”

“No kiddin’. Who’d ya kill?”

“More people than I can remember.”

Bobby licked his lips nervously when he saw Lucas now smiling at him, a vacant look in his eyes.  

Lucas leapt from the bunk, crossed the room in two steps, and ripped Bobby’s throat out with his teeth. Throwing him roughly to the floor, he began to feed.

After a bit, gore dripping from his mouth and chin, he looked up at one of the cameras and gestured with his middle finger. 

Lucas knew that would be edited out of the tape, as well as his comment about his audience being sick, but he felt a perverse pleasure in jerking the chains of those who had paid big money for the live show.

 

The End (We Hope)

 

 

Roy Dorman, roydorman@yahoo.com, of Madison, WI, who wrote BP #79’s “Cellmates” & “Get Some Shelter” (+ BP #78’s “All Is as It Should Be,” BP #77’s “Essence of Andrew,” BP #76’s “Flirting with the Alley,” BP #75’s “The Enemy of My Enemy…” BP #74’s “Doesn’t Play Well with Others,” BP #73’s “A Journey Starts with a Flower,” BP #72’s “The Beach House,” BP #71’s “The Big Apple Bites,” BP #70’s “Borrowing Some Love” and BP #69’s “Back in Town” and “Finding Good Help…”), is retired from the University of Wisconsin-Madison Benefits Office and has been a voracious reader for 60 years. At the prompting of an old high school friend, himself a retired English teacher, Roy is now a voracious writer. He has had poetry and flash fiction published in Apocrypha and Abstractions, Birds Piled Loosely, Burningword Literary Journal, Cease Cows, Cheapjack Pulp, Crack The Spine, Drunk Monkeys, Every Day Fiction, Flash Fiction Magazine, Flash Fiction Press, Gap-Toothed Madness, Gravel, Lake City Lights, Near To The Knuckle, Shotgun Honey, The Creativity Webzine, Theme of Absence, The Screech Owl, The Story Shack, & Yellow Mama.

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