He felt an unbearable melancholia as they cuddled on the tiger-striped sofa. The smoke from her joint unraveled in the air like two decrepit snakes holding on to each other. She pulled him out from the haze by suggesting they drive down to the beach.
The stereo blasted “Don’t Worry Baby” as they fooled around behind the wheel. He felt a carefree happiness that he knew would soon fade until he found another carcass.
Coney Island was empty because it was the dead of winter. They walked along the water holding hands as the wind slapped their faces. There was an abandoned ruin like Blackwell Insane Asylum. She ran towards it like the reincarnation of a lost soul returning to that Godforsaken place. He watched her silhouette fade as a red hue filled the buildings along the shore. The color entranced him until he saw a bald man standing rigidly at the window. He lurched, screaming towards the girl because no one should be killed by a man who stood like Hannibal Lecter waiting to meet Clarice Starling for the first time in Silence of the Lambs.
She was far away but her laughter sliced like a knife. “It’s a dummy, you dummy!!”
He waddled through the sand as she embraced him. Her kisses felt cold, and he knew in the pit of his stomach it was over. She stripped off her clothes as he lift his hands to his face, not knowing if it was the hail or his tears that poured down.
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