When Morning Comes – SHORT STORY

    

     YOU’D THINK THE stench of household garbage would override all else.

Clinging to the bin lorry handle I loved the rush of morning air, beating the sun to the punch, breakfast digesting before it even had the decency to shed flecks of muted orange above the rooftops of houses.

Cars slept, curtains were drawn, only the occasional light suggested these streets were not those of a ghost town.

As the truck stopped, I hopped off racing to the black wheelie bin, twisting it around and trundling it to the back of the lorry lifting the lip onto the mechanism before pressing a green button. Hauling the bin off the ground the frame elevated beyond horizontal, rising upwards before stopping as the contents poured out to be compacted by the powerful pneumatic pistons. Once back down, new boy Mick hauled it away onto the pavement. Every few houses we’d swap over.

On to the next one.

Running ahead of the lorry I grabbed the handle of the black bin, worn leather glove wrapping around. I noticed a hand sticking out, on the stem of a forearm like a fleshy wilted flower. Pastel white, no sign of veins, it could have been a manikin’s, but they don’t have burnt finger tips, or a stained metallic band of skin on the wedding finger.

When I came peeling around the back of the lorry I motioned Mick over, relishing the look I’d see.

As eager as any new recruit he hopped off the rubbish truck. He was about to grab the handles when he jumped back as if it were electrified. “What the fook is that?”

I walked over and placed the bin on the mechanism then pressed the button. Rubbish poured out, but mostly a body. A red-head, she faced into the rubbish, a small stroke of luck. Seeing the faces always sent shivers through me. Her limbs were at angles to make a contortionist green, poking out of a black skirt and cream blouse; no obvious clues as to how she died.

“Mick! Say a few prayers. This is her funeral!”

Still in shock, tentative, he came closer, eyes locked on the corpse in the dark of the trucks belly, flitting to me wondering if it was all a joke, looking for that tell-tale curl of a smile.

“Think! What time of year is it?” I asked lowering the mechanism.

“What?!” He was still observing the innards.

“Election year!” I said, as if the answer were obvious. “Every election year, same thing happens. She won’t be your first.”

Every four years people went missing, the numbers spiked, people wanted to bury their secrets. But then, we were no ordinary bin-men.

 

lion around 2

Categories Short Stories, Short StoryTags , , , , , , , , , , , ,

13 thoughts on “When Morning Comes – SHORT STORY

  1. What. Whaaat. This made me question everything about Election years, now. Superbly written, and just the right dose of creepy.

    1. Merci Jade 🙂
      Seems 20ml of creepy is about the right amount lol

  2. Hmm…now it all makes sense…some have gone missing here in the US. 😀 The protagonist ‘s blasé attitude, and Mick’s shock were a perfect foil. Great story, Lion.

    1. Thanks Mary 🙂
      Seemed like a good time to drop something vaguely political…and deadly too of course.

      1. Of course…what’s a story without a death or two? 🙂

  3. That is some interesting garbage. Didn’t know that much was involved really. If you have the chance, please if you can check out my blog at Gastradamus. We have a new story called, “The Bald and the Brestless and we really like to know at Gastradamus, what you think about it.

  4. Wow, a powerful write. Is there any reality to this??

    1. Not that I know of (thankfully). Thanks for reading lonelyauthor, your thoughts are always appreciated.

      1. It was a good write. You had me thinking where was this happening? I imagine old time Chicago in the gangster days may have seen much of this.

      2. I’m glad you mention that because I pictured it was modern day, but looking back on it, it could be set across any number of time periods.

  5. 😱😱😨😨😨 gave me goose bumps!!

    1. I should have put a warning up 🙂 Thanks for reading.

      1. Naaaah! Then I wouldn’t enjoy the thrills.😂😂 always a pleasure to read your words Lion. Keep surprising!

Please, type what you think

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close