Massacre Magazine - Issue 7
My son has a story in this issue, Henry A Miles, writer of very dark horror.
Monday, August 3, 2015
I hadn't done a Mid-Week Blues Buster for some time, here is one.
by Boyd Miles
Eva was watching the gas pump suck her bank account dry. Refilling her tank so she could put more miles between herself and the man she had fallen for. Cassidy had been her first true love, sure she had had flings, stands, dates, hook ups, wild nights but never had she fallen in love. She had fallen hard.
Car filled, bank account no longer so, Eva got behind the wheel of her old Dodge Neon and aimed herself toward the interstate. In the corner of the lot stood a vanishing icon, an aluminum and glass box with a folding door. When had she last seen a phone booth? She backed the car away from the road and parked by the booth.
Long minutes in the sun, her windows rolled down, dust and noise from the passing trucks filled her beat up car. Her few belongings gathering a layer of desert sand while she just stared at the booth waiting for the decision to be made.
At last she opened her door and walked to the phone booth with all the change she could find in her ashtray and under the floor mats. She fed the black and chrome phone all she had and dialed the number she had written on a scrap of paper. It would have been easier to use a cellphone but she had left that behind, she didn't want to risk having him call her. She didn't want to risk him not calling her either. Three rings and his voice mail answered.
"I had to call, I had to say why." She hesitated, there would be a long section of muffled road noise on the message. "It is the moon, I love you but the moon." She knew this sounded crazy. "The sky is beautiful, blue and clear...... look, I did it for you, the moon, the moon is full and I.....I change. I love you, I can't help it. Goodbye."
Eva got back in the car, cried for a time, started the engine and drove on, deeper into the desert.
Cassidy's phone chimed to announce the presence of a new voice mail. That and the buzzing of flies were the only noise in the blood splattered apartment. Eva had left one night too late.