Pink Sunglasses & Robert Johnson's Dancing Shoes
The days keeps on worryin' me, there's a hellhound on my trail, hellhound on my trail
By Tripp FultonPublished 3 years ago • 1 min read

I am a sinner. The Apostle told me so as he tied me to the post. His name is Virgil Cain, servant of the Lord.
His acolytes: Charlie Mason, dancer, wields the tommygun. Jeremiah Dixon, singer, his fists.
Virgil, The Apostle, plays harmonica, uses the razor.
My middle daughter likes him. Younger daughter won’t talk, older daughter won’t stop screaming. He took her eyes, used the pink sunglasses to mark her shame.
Charlie took his shoes off Robert Johnson's corpse.
The razor tickles my throat.
My sight grows dim.
They're moving on.
They have work to do.




Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.