Crime Stories
“Like Piranha Pool, this is semi-autobiographical, and pretty much anyone who has ever tried to write for a living can relate to the narrator.The first time I ever saw it was at a party.College. Dorm. Walls constructed of Budweiser cases. Every door open, the hallways and rooms crammed with people, six different rock tunes competing for dominance.Rituals of the young and innocent—and the not so innocent, I found out that night.I had to give back the beer I’d rented, popped into the first empty room I could find.He was sitting in the corner, hunched over, oblivious to me.Curiosity made me forget about my bladder. What was he doing, huddled in the dim light? What unpleasant drug would keep him here, alone and oblivious, when a floor thumping party was kicking outside his door?“Hey, man, what’s up?”A quick turn, guilty face, covering something up with his hands.“Nothing. Go away.”“What are you hiding there?”His eyes were wide, full of secret shame. The shame of masturbation, of cooking he...roin needles, of snatching money from Mom’s purse.Then I saw it all—the computer, the notebook full of scrawls, the outline…“You’re writing fiction!”The guilt melted off his face, leaving it shopworn and heavy.“Leave me alone.MoreLess
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