Excerpt
Juda Blake slipped on the wet stairs and fell down on his back while grasping for the rail that ran along the stairs. He hit the edge of the concrete hard feeling the pain in his back followed right away by the crack of the back of his skull touching down. He held his breath while reaching for the wounded part of his melon. It was late at night and he counted on the darkness as an ally that would help conceal his location on a stairway down below street level, so he bit his tongue and hoped the occupants of the car following him would pass by.
He brought his other hand down from the rail slowly and then rolled to his side carefully. He could feel the cold wetness of the rain soaked pavement through his corduroy pants against his skin. He looked to the bottom of the stairs and saw there was a faded grey door that showed stains of all that had been tossed downward into it. Not to mention the quick bathroom stops made by those that just could not wait anymore.
The thought of making a move to try the door crossed his mind as a temptation. A temptation in a, I am drunk and damn it I do love fat ugly broads after all kind of way. Quickly he dismissed any thoughts which involved excess movements that may just lead to a whole other set of situations. He had already been forced to run almost two blocks cutting in and out of different potential shack spots but he had failed to lose this guy up until now with this accidental fall. It is funny how misfortune can turn out to be most fortunate. Luck, if she is a lady, must have a large beautiful ass, because she sure likes to see people fall on their ass before she appears. If this stalker (and friends?) found him now his options would be very limited. So if he did spot him then it would be down to him getting through the grey door and what lay behind it.
He lay there struggling to reduce his air intake in order to be as quiet as possible while listening carefully for his pursuer. Everything seemed to go so slow. The waiting took years from his life. He could feel them leave his body like they had when he was a young teen and running from the police with his young friends late at night.
Not because they had done anything wrong. No sir, just because it was fun to be chased and elude. Dropping and rolling under cars lickity split. Running like the wind, leaping fences, climbing trees, doubling back, hiding where no one would ever dream. The adrenalin rush alone was worth it. It bonded them all. Their friendships tied by the stories and the glory of the nights.
It was then it occurred to him that something had to be done. A movement of some sorts was needed so that it had an effect on the situation rather than sitting on past glory. He reached up and grabbed the bottom rung of the steel guard rail. He pulled himself up to see over the edge. Scanning the dark street, his eyes adjusted from light to dark with the rise and decline of the dimming streetlights. Empty? The street was empty of people and sound. Then he saw the front end of a car moving slowly along without its lights on.
This was an older sullied part of town. During its heyday this was the part of town with all the illegal gambling, drinking and prostitution going on. As drugs rolled in the decent riff raff moved away and the area became a crumbling no man’s land of condemned buildings that just recently investors had decided they could buy up and rebuild for massive profits. I guess the future is the past.
But for now it was about evictions and demolitions.