Eddie’s lips smacked like a horse stuck in mud. He finished his second helping. Char glared at him from across the table. The flickering candles reflected off the sheen of sweat soaking Eddie’s forehead. She took a drag off her cigarette.

The little noises sent her eyebrows twitching. Each slurp and chortle bored into her soul. Bits of food viscera sprayed from his mouth, coating the table with a thin film of Eddie. Char stared through her wineglass and out the window.

Eddie belched, then asked for the potatoes.

“Don’t forget your father. They couldn’t cut him out of his car…” said Char.

Eddie looked at her with hard-boiled egg eyes. “It was an accident. It had nothing to do with his weight,” said Eddie. He stopped chewing and set down his chicken leg.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s