A problem

by Howie Amourscow
originally published at 04:41PM on Sunday, April 22, 2007

I stood in the drizzle, fingers drumming on the lid of the sedan’s open trunk as I stared into the dimly lit interior. The trunk was empty. Okay, not really: spare tire, jack, plastic quart bottle of oil, stained blankets. But we had a problem. Specifically, Dwayne and I had a problem. More specifically, Dwayne had a problem. If someone was going under the bus, it was not going to be me.

I closed the trunk, walked around to the passenger’s side and opened the door. Dwayne stopped playing with the radio and looked at me as I slid into the car and slammed the door. I cleared my throat.

“Something wrong?” he asked, stupidly. If nothing was wrong, I would have been gone for at least fifteen minutes. That’s the problem, part of the problem, with old Dwayne. He just doesn’t think.

I said, “So, uh, you shot him twice?”

“Yeah. Bang, second one in the head to be sure.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“Yeah, why?”

“And then you put him in the trunk?”




“We have a very minor problem, Dwayne.”




  • from Uncle Sam:

    Great stuff! I’m in the mood for a action/ crime thriller.

  • from Tygertrot:

    Wow, I agree – GREAT stuff. Thing is, I was confused a moment by the change of narrative perspective. Otherwise, terrific.

  • from Uncle Sam:

    Yeah, sorry, I could have transitioned better. Didn’t think about that…