Lovesick

Abel

What the fuck does one do while their girlfriend is inside their childhood home, gathering reconnaissance to kill the only living parent they have left?

I’ve played with the radio. I’ve driven up and down the block. This place looks empty. No people. Not even any fucking dogs.

Who doesn’t own dogs?

There isn’t any sign of anyone coming or going but my palms still sweat. Even if it’s a good thing no one’s around to notice the shitty truck circling the neighborhood suspiciously.

But until Rose is back safely beside me, I’ll drum my sweaty ass palms against the steering wheel and drive around the block como un pervertido.