Dead by Friday.. (Part One)

   Jonathan Andrews pulled into his usual parking spot. The dark blue BMW was his pride and joy. Stacked to the hilt. Leather seats, heated. Sun roof, tinted. A navigation system to die for, unfortunately nothing in the car could guide his moral compass.

   In business, his friends considered him a shark, in personal affairs, most considered him a prick. Black suit, tie and a white shirt, or dark pin stripes were always his favorite of course. He never wanted for anything. Only the best that money could buy was his favorite motto. Mr. Andrews, as he preferred to be called, was a clean, crisp sort of fellow, determined, disciplined, and ruthless.

   The old man propped himself against the wall. Weary from the cold, he sought to warm himself in the inner stairwell of Andrews' office building. Here he found shelter from the winter's wind.

   Reeking of piss, the disheveled old man huddled in the corner trying to ward off frost bite that nipped at his feet through the holes that worn deep into the soles of his shoes. The bottle of whiskey warmed his belly, and made him sleepy.

   Around the corner, Andrews sauntered. His suit sharp, his haircut tight. Like a slap in the face, in an instance, he knew the old man had been there, or was close by. His odor clung to the walls of the stairwell.

   One by one he climbed, until he came to a stop at the top of the stairs. There he felt his anger knot in this stomach, before crawling the length of his neck. He stood looming over the old man and glared in a hateful stare.

   “I told you for the last time, old man, this is not a hotel” He spoke with a hard biting tongue, as rage filled his head, and choked at his throat..

   The old man looked up through weepy eyes, heavy with alcohol, and blurred with sleep.

   “I am cold” he squeeked out under a rotten smile. His breath rank with the bitterness of the bottle between his legs. His teeth stained with life's regret.

   “I have no where else to go” he managed before he felt the spike of pain radiate up along the side of his slumping body. Andrews kicked him once more for good measure, before repeating the message he has spoke on many ocassions, “Find somewhere else to warm yourself you worthless piece of s**t”

   The old man slumped further as a dribble of blood formed at the corner of his mouth. “You will be dead by Friday, you b*****d” he cursed in a muddled voice before slipping off to sleep.

   Andrews sauntered up the stairs, this shoes tapping a cruel song before disappearing behind a closing door, unfazed by the rantings of an old drunk. He went about his day as if nothing happened.

It was Wednesday, February 10th, 8am.

Reviews

[Kriss_Rose]

I really enjoyed this. I'm left asking: is the old man crazy? Will Mr Andrews really be dead by friday? Love the ending with the date and time

[Muse]

What a great opening. Karma never looked so evil!

[Demetri J]

I know I'm late on this, but this is interesting to say the least. A little short but I'm still anxious to read more. Good job!

[SkinlessFrank]

Has the makings of a great story. The contrasts between the two personalities are themselves poetic. I like the rapid back and forth between the two. Perhaps some of the transitions between the old man and Andrews are too rapid. Maybe what this is telling me is that each of them could benefit from further development at this point in the story.

[Inyourshadow]

This is excellent reminds me of Stephen Kings The Thinner, I am looking forward to seeing where you take this and exactly how the curse will play out. Great use of honest and raw description for both the bum and the prick. Keep em' coming

[nicolettox]

Is it me or most sentences rhyme? how very interesting! I have had the chance of seeing your story come to life in the city where I live, where drunker beggars are mistreated. great story!

[Teri B]

A Halloween story...in February! A very character-driven introduction that makes you want to know how these two antagonists will settle the score between them. Offended by poverty and filth, will Mr. Andrews get his comeuppance at the hands of the unexpected avenging angel lurking beneath the grime and funk of the old geezer?

*cue atmospheric music* Time will tell!

Very nicely handled.

[KAREN]

Can't wait for part two! This is really interesting, but I have to say I wish I could kick Andrew back!

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

George, excellent read! Love the strongness of it, how you built your plot up to a wonderful ending!