By Geoffrey Thorne
Copyright © 2006 Geoffrey Thorne
Somebody with a death wish was leaning on my buzzer.
Now, I'm a reasonable sort, fair minded, some might even say staunch, but that sort of wake-up call– screaming angry hornets- at that hour– like three in the morning– that kind of behavior will get anybody's back up.
Couple that with the fact that Priscilla had been at me again– something about me not respecting her life choices or some other kind of crap– so I'd only actually made it into my bed at like midnight anyway. When she gets a mad going it takes a while for her to blow herself out. Three hours of sleep after a taste of Hurricane Pris and I probably would've dropped my own mother for looking at me crossways.