Coming Up
A Thursday Prompt story
© 2019 by Walter Reimer
Prompt: cough
Sequel to Draw Me Nearer
Whuh?
What . . . happened?
Did I fall down? I think there’s a pavement under me . . . oh, bollocks.
I remember now.
Himself sent me and another bloke, new kid, named Nish or something . . . “simple job,” Himself said it’d be, place down in Croydon, selling drugs without giving a cut to Himself . . .
Damned bastards were laying for us.
Nish . . . dead. I think. He went down first; the dhole never had a damned chance. Just went down, blood flying everywhere.
I was coming up behind, so I had time.
I was out on the street when it happened, yes, that’s it. Huge hit, like somebody twatted me in the back with a cricket bat.
Memories . . . I’m laying flat on my back by the breakfast table, feeling blood seeping into my fur, my Da standing over me while my Ma tries to ignore what’s going on or she’ll get it too, Da threatening to kill me if I didn’t get off my rabbit’s tail and get a damned job . . .
I snuff back some blood, and – ugh.
It’s gone down the wrong pipe.
I’m choking on my own blood.
Yaz . . . will she cry?
Choking . . .
“BLUURGKHH!”
“Here, who’s this?” Some dog looks down at me; he’s kneeling now, looking through my pockets.
He’s police.
“Tommy Larkin?” The officer grins. “I thought you were dead, lying here. Good to see you’re still kicking, Sonny Jim; you’ll be for it now.” He finishes patting me down and whistles for a medic.
Yeah, I’ll be for it. Likely some prison; been there before. Himself’ll understand, and Yaz will have words.
But I’ll be alive, thanks to a single cough.
end
A Thursday Prompt story
© 2019 by Walter Reimer
Prompt: cough
Sequel to Draw Me Nearer
Whuh?
What . . . happened?
Did I fall down? I think there’s a pavement under me . . . oh, bollocks.
I remember now.
Himself sent me and another bloke, new kid, named Nish or something . . . “simple job,” Himself said it’d be, place down in Croydon, selling drugs without giving a cut to Himself . . .
Damned bastards were laying for us.
Nish . . . dead. I think. He went down first; the dhole never had a damned chance. Just went down, blood flying everywhere.
I was coming up behind, so I had time.
I was out on the street when it happened, yes, that’s it. Huge hit, like somebody twatted me in the back with a cricket bat.
Memories . . . I’m laying flat on my back by the breakfast table, feeling blood seeping into my fur, my Da standing over me while my Ma tries to ignore what’s going on or she’ll get it too, Da threatening to kill me if I didn’t get off my rabbit’s tail and get a damned job . . .
I snuff back some blood, and – ugh.
It’s gone down the wrong pipe.
I’m choking on my own blood.
Yaz . . . will she cry?
Choking . . .
“BLUURGKHH!”
“Here, who’s this?” Some dog looks down at me; he’s kneeling now, looking through my pockets.
He’s police.
“Tommy Larkin?” The officer grins. “I thought you were dead, lying here. Good to see you’re still kicking, Sonny Jim; you’ll be for it now.” He finishes patting me down and whistles for a medic.
Yeah, I’ll be for it. Likely some prison; been there before. Himself’ll understand, and Yaz will have words.
But I’ll be alive, thanks to a single cough.
end
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Rabbit / Hare
Size 120 x 92px
File Size 36 kB
Listed in Folders
(does some quick research)
He'd get done over for Possession of Firearm, with intent to harm. Minimum sentence is 5 years. Based on other factors, he'd be listed as a Category B inmate and housed at the appropriate facility, like HM Prison Wormwood Scrubs, the equivalent of a medium-security lockup in the USA.
He'd get done over for Possession of Firearm, with intent to harm. Minimum sentence is 5 years. Based on other factors, he'd be listed as a Category B inmate and housed at the appropriate facility, like HM Prison Wormwood Scrubs, the equivalent of a medium-security lockup in the USA.
Here's our first visit to Tommy's England: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/30036884/
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