j. l. navarro

Unseen Influence














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Drawing by Derek Hess

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The Hollywood sign rests in its assigned place.  Ted Kenwood sits on the first "L" looking out at the throng of people below, walking the sidewalks, driving their cars.  The Sunday afternoon was unseasonably warm for this time of year.  The smog would be a problem for people with bad lungs.  When he lived, he suffered with emphysema.  That was no longer a problem.  He didn't miss taking a shit either.  All the narcotics they gave him for pain created turds that were hard as concrete, lacerating his anus when he strained on the throne.  Death had been welcomed.

 

Continues…

 

This story is included in The Blood Cake Vendor and Other Stories.

 

 

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