siskin – 3

by underswansea


I had a dream.

I was in a liquor store. Walking the isles.

Eyeing up the top shelf whisky.

There was Knob Creek, Crown Royal Black, even Wisers had a premium bottle.

Once the top comes off all bets are off.

That’s when the dream ended. I tried to go back to sleep and pick up where I left off. I thought of single malt scotches.

But it was no use.

My hamstring was sore from kicking Revimno in the ass.

Leo was dead, presumably by his own hand.

Something wasn’t right. Leo’s favorite person was Leo. Once, while collecting rent, I caught him looking over my head at his reflection in the mirror. He changed his stance slightly to appear handsomer, tougher?

Shit, the guy had his hair cut at Tony’s ever second week.

No matter how much he ranted and raved, waiting was his strong suit. That is a good quality to have in a landlord.

He could even be forgiving.

We had an understanding. I paid, not necessarily on time, and he didn’t change the locks when I was late.

Before I left, he talked about building a cabin on the eastside of the lake, in vacation home territory.

Leo was dead, shot through the head, Revimno was in charge, everyone had to be out in three months, the building was scheduled for demolition and I was out of whisky.

But it was still early.