That Day Carly Put on Her Sunglasses
A Marla Bishop Prompt for Writers.
The day was hot. The wind was strong. Carly put her sunglasses on, and man did she look good doing it. Carly always thought her last name should be Simon, and all the guys should write songs about her.
Carly didn’t usually wear sunglasses unless she was stoned or tripping. I knew this because we had an intimate relationship and because she told me. She said, “You know why I don’t wear sunglasses unless I’m stoned or tripping, Steve?”
I said, “No, I don’t. Enlighten me.”
She said, “Most people would think me vain if I said I don’t wear sunglasses because they cover too much of my face. But you know me better than that, don’t you?”
“I most certainly do not!” I blurted out without much thought. She laughed so hard, I thought she’d choke and croak.
Carly and I had that kind of relationship where we didn’t have to lie to each other. It probably wouldn’t have done much good anyway, we knew each other far too well.
Anyway, back to that day in the ’70s and those sunglasses. It turned out I was right, she was tripping. She asked me if I wanted to go for a ride out to the beach.
I quickly said, “Yeah, so long as we can stop by 7-Eleven and get a Slurpee or something.” I was dry as hell and wanted some munchies too.
She said, “If you’re buying, I’m flying!”
We didn’t even make it to 7-Eleven. We were driving along — not even that fast, and the cop car behind us lit us up like a Christmas tree. The lights and siren freaked me out because I was tripping too.
I saw Carly reach under her dress as the cop got out of his car. I said, “Carly, don’t do anything crazy. But I saw her pull out a gun, and before I could even react, she whipped around, shot the cop, and he went down.
I said, “Carly, what the fuck? I mean, it’s just a traffic stop. We weren’t even speeding.”
She said, “You know I hate cops, and that son-of-a-bitch has been chasing me and trying to get in my skirt for months. I’m just sick of it and him.”
I was so shocked I couldn’t say anything. I was just babbling, and the trip I was on didn’t help. I reached in my pocket and pulled out a ‘lude, a lemon 714, a “disco biscuit” or whatever you call Methaqualone.
I popped it in my mouth and started chewing it. That mellowed me out pretty quick. Well, as much as anyone can mellow out when they just saw their best friend shoot a cop.
But I really freaked out when the cop started pounding on the window with bloody hands and a hopeless look on his face.
Carly calmly took aim and shot him again. The only thing is the window was closed, and although the shot reverberated around the inside of the car, it didn’t break out the window.
But they both broke out in laughter while saying, “Burrrrrrn!”
More of my stories you might like.
Stephen Dalton is a retired US Army First Sergeant with a degree in journalism from the University of Maryland and a Certified US English Chicago Manual of Style Editor. Top Writer in Fiction, Short Story, VR, Design, & Creativity. Editor of Pop Off, Top Dalton’s Blog, 100WordStory, B.O.S.S., and SportsShorts100WordsOnly
You can see his portfolio here. Email [email protected]
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