Mafia Cleaner The motor hums as I pull onto the bridge. The body in the trunk still warm and leaking blood into the rug. Cinder blocks in the front seat and a chain in the back. The river is flooded and the water is clouded with mud. My suit has spatter all over the front of it. The dry cleaning bill will be high on this one. I stop the car and place it into park. The rain falls as I open my door and start to open the trunk. No remorse for what I have done. If he would have paid then he would still be breathing. I reach for his feet that have inched out of the rug. I can feel that his body is starting to grow cold. His skin clammy and blood no longer drips from him. His name meaning nothing and no words to be said. I wrap the chains around his feet and then to the cinder blocks. I look over the edge and kind of shiver as I think about how far the drop would be. If by any chance he was still alive the fall would finish the job. My job is simple really. They drop em and I clean up the mess. I ask no questions and get paid handsomely for my time. I think of it like cleaning up a meat room when I do my part. Nothing can ruin my thoughts. I sit the cinder blocks on the rail. I lift this heavy limp body up to the edge. With great force I push the block over. His body soon to follow. I watch as the water ripples. He vanishes under the dark brown water. My job is done for now.
Posted on: Mon, 29 Jul 2013 01:49:53 +0000
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