Quarterly Literary Review Singapore
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Vol. 3 No. 3 Apr 2004

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When Bodies Fall

By Jerry Vilhotti

A loud thunder blast accompanied by frightening streaks of lightening ricocheting throughout his brain were his wife's words.

"What are you doing? That's your flesh and blood! What are you doing animal - visitor of sheep pens? That's your daughter!"

He peed out of his nose and defecated from his mouth as he stammered looking as awkward as the fearless Mohawk Indian who had fallen from the ninetieth floor from the Empire State Building working just three clouds above him.

"What? What? A falling hand? It was only a damn accident!"

The thunder and lightening continued forcing him to slam his glass to the floor; shattering into many pieces that became broken slabs of concrete; making their other three little children begin a crying ...

He was sitting upon one of them as a little girl who was beginning to show breasts with a "behind" that was taking on a sensuous shape took a seat way high up onto his lap. She squirmed delicately; moving back and forth as she reached for real or imaginary objects. He laughed trying very hard to convince himself his daughter Tina was only two years old but all at once she was the fifteen year old girl he had touched at supper A Tina who was bestowed with the reputation of being the "knockout" of the whole huge area once known, during the time of Poe when he was married to his sister-cousin and was roaming the area trying to rid himself of the demons tormenting him, as Fordham Village. Then of a sudden, she became older than he and without thinking he grabbed her ass as she at the very same time was touching him; holding him in both her hands; moving them like an elevator climbing to the sky. On the tallest landing of the then tallest building in the world - where King Kong was going to fall to his death to try and save humanity - was where he wrestled the womanly-girl gently and lovingly to the concrete slab that was glowing inside a deep purple heat the size of a large red-orange flame ....

He threw the empty bottle of wine to the floor creating more broken slabs before leaving to go for a few drinks down at the bar next to the house that Ruth built and most likely spend a few days with the bar hostess and go to work from there to live in the sky once again where clouds copulated beneath the sun.

QLRS Vol. 3 No. 3 Apr 2004


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Other Short Stories In This Issue

Killing Jack Russells
By Marshall J. Getz.

America Calling
By G.J. Reynolds.


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