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Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Excerpt from Destination D.C. First draft completed, now for the work' reread, rewrites and editing.


“Dammit Judith, I still can’t believe you cussed out the president and what was that comment about holding his dick? Some days I wished your mother and I would have had a boy. I’d understand his language, but I’ll never get used to what comes out of your mouth.”
“No worse than you hitting me.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“You’ll be sorry all right when I tell mom what you did to her baby girl.”
“Judith, you wouldn’t, would you?” She only smiled back, rubbing her face. “Okay, how can I make it up to you?”
“For starters, you can feed me. I haven’t eaten in over twelve hours and I’m starved.”
“That I can do. Where do you want to go?”
“Waffle House. I want a ‘Grand Slam Breakfast’ with all the toppings.”
“Honey, they don’t have Waffle House in D.C.”
“No wonder this town’s so fucked up! Everyone has a Waffle House.”
“If we were back home it wouldn’t be a problem, but I know where I can take you. It’s almost the same thing. It’s called Waffle Shop, and I think you’ll get a kick out of it. It’s the only restaurant which misspelled their own name.”
“Nothing in this town surprises me.”

* * *

“Where are they?” asked Washburn.
“Going into the Waffle Shop. Shall we apprehend them now?”
“No. Those condemned to death should enjoy their last meal. Wait until they’ve finished, then kill them.”
“Yes sir.”

* * *

“What is it Senator?”
“The Andersons will no longer be a problem. I have people watching them enjoying their last meal.” A thin smile spread on Gerhardt’s face. He released a small chuckle
“Your sense of irony is not missed. Mr. Anderson is lucky to have a friend such as yourself.”
“Yes professor.”
“Call me when they’re both dead.”

* * *

“Dad, I couldn’t eat another bite.”
“Glad you liked it honey.”
“I’ll be honest, I had my reservations, but it was almost as good as Waffle House, almost.” He let a relieved laugh. They slid out of from the table. He picked up the bill, reaching into his pocket to leave a tip. “Oh shit.”
“I left my wallet in the car. I’ll be right back.”

Judith stood by the plate glass window watching the morning sun’s rays pierce the morning sky, reflecting off the waters of Four Mile Run. A feeling she hadn’t experience in a long time filled her: peace. Dad leaned into his 2015 Lexus, retrieving his wallet. He smiled waving it at her. She detected the sun reflecting off a small cylindrical metal object In less than a second the window she was looking out exploded.


  1. Replies
    1. Well, I don't know what to say Lynne, but a whole lot of hurt is about to come down on the town. I'll let you know before everything implodes. We'll need a good correspondent to write the epitaph.

  2. That is just plain cruel, Jeff. Not what you're doing to those characters and Lynne's town--no, I'm referring to leaving us readers dangling from that story cliff.

    Not kind! :-)

  3. Mission Impossible, or accomplished? I vote for the second. Another excerpt in a day or two?

  4. now I want a pecan waffle!! of course from waffle house, doesn't seem like waffle shop will be there much longer!

  5. Kath, Luckily there are limits to destruction. A few bullet holes will give the locals something to discuss for eons. Being a regular at Waffle House, the stories will long and tall! Now, about that pecan waffle with hashbrowns; scattered and capped, please.


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