Tuesday, August 12, 2008


Sequoia grasped out as he fell and the only thing within reach was the shower curtain, which braced his fall a bit, but didn’t keep his trick knee from thumping the porcelain surface.  The water still rained down from the shower head as he braced himself to get up.  That knee throbbed worse than it ever had.  Even worse than after the Bouzereau fight.  The throbbing consumed his mind so much that he didn’t even notice the shower ring beneath his foot.  As the ball of his foot came down on it and it cracked open like a fortune cookie, he let out a Wildman howl and hopped over to sit on the toilet seat.  Massaging the bottom of his sole, he caught a glimpse of the shattered ring on the black bathroom rug.  A sliver of paper snaked out of the broken plastic.  The knee pain vanished immediately.  His foot was miles away.  He slowly knelt down and picked up the shower ring shards, freeing the slip of paper from within them.  He held it between his finger, squinting as he tried to make out what was written on it.  Arabic.  He couldn’t decipher it, but he knew Arabic when he saw it.  All he had to do no was break open the other shower rings and find himself an Arab in this motel.



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