Food of the Gods
Chaco pinched the joint from El Hefe’s nimble fingers. He set the point to hover near his lips, disappearing beneath a draping mustache and inhaled a stream of reefer smoke into his barrel thick chest.
“Yo, Chaco. Save some for us, cabrone.” Miguel the interpreter, sleek with words and gracious, empty complements shouldered the bigger man.
Chaco disengaged, handing the diminished nub to his friend. Through compressed gasps he said, “The weed es gratis, cabrone. Look around, ees everywhere.”
Continued…
https://davecline.wordpress.com/2019/09/15/sepscenewrimo-fifteen/
When I saw the title, I thought for a second you were picking up where Paul left off! Great starter!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I had my doubts as to whether writing scenes, such as they are, would payoff. Thus far, I’ve been pleasantly surprised.
Time is the challenge, as it always is with writing—stealing time, I should say.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Then, in the famous words of Peter Green, don’t ask me what I think of this one.
LikeLiked by 1 person
“I might not give the answer that you want me to…”
Yeah, yeah. I was channeling Indiana Jones, donchaknow.
LikeLike
Change the channel! Quick!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You write very well…..
LikeLiked by 1 person
“Everyday, in every way, I’m getting better and better.” Thanks.
LikeLike