Rooting for the Apocalypse - The Shore (3)
Bonus Content - Part 3
Rooting for the Apocalypse began as series of vignettes, loosely based on my life and the lives of my fellow dirtbags living in Philadelphia. The nameless dirtbag serves as a protagonist, though he never learns anything, with some repeat characters like Zak and Athena. I tried to combine the vignettes into a picaresque novel, but ultimately, I decided that it wasn't strong enough and spun out a single, long vignette to be the novella and the story bearing the title Rooting for the Apocalypse.
But I am not confined to a series of vignettes or a novel or a book. I have my own publication and I can do whatever the hell I want. So, what will follow are two vignettes, The Shore, and The Wedding, each of which are long enough to be divided into multiple parts. At the moment, they are Substack exclusives, and I have no plans to release them elsewhere. It pays to go paid.
Once these are done, I’ll be moving from dirtbag literature to horror, and I’ve been cooking up something really nasty for you.
Please note that because these stories were cut before the final draft, they have less polish than usual. Please excuse the occasional mistake.
The Shore
Part 3
An ungodly pounding rouses me from stupor. Athena rolls away from me and falls out of bed.
What the f-ing fuck, she groans.
Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey, Zak calls through the door.
Noooo. Athena grabs the pillow and wraps it around her head. Athena is dead.
I know you’re in there. Zak drums his hands on the door.
What time is it? I say.
Beach time, motherfucker! Zak yells.
How are you like this? I throw a blanket over Athena to hide her nakedness and open the door.
We’re up. I wave my sweaty morning fingers in Zak’s face to fend him off.
Here’s your complimentary wake-up package. Zak hands me two beers and the vape. Hair of the dog.
Give us a minute, I say. We aren’t all mutants.
Hurry up, Zak says. I want to go swimming! He prances away. I close the door and lock it.
Athena flops the blanket off her face. I’m never leaving this floor.
I hit the vape and then toss it to Athena. Have a lifeline.
Oh thank God. She takes a drag so big I’m afraid her little body will float away and then exhales a fog.
Whoa! I say. You are ready.
She coughs like a choleric. That might have been a mistake. She gives me a goofy grin. Whoopsy.
I know what will make you feel better. I pick her up and throw her to the bed and go down on her until she cums. I wash my mouth out with the second beer.
I like the beach, Athena says, still panting and clutching the sheets. She giggles.
Is this what I’m dealing with here? A little giggling giggly gigglegirl. A giggly gaggly gigglepuss? That sets her off harder.
A gigglepussy.
Oh lord. Were you going to shower? I was just going to jump in the ocean.
I’ve got a hole you can jump in. Athena laughs.
I’m gonna hunt down some coffee.
I’m gonna make a toga out of this pillowcase. Athena wraps the pillowcase around her chest.
I throw on my shorts and whatever shirt I can find and head to the kitchen. Bridget and Brian are already immersed in one of their famous brouhahas. I flit between them to the coffee maker and discover the pot is nowhere to be found.
No, I say. It can’t be.
Coffee’s in the fridge, Jen says. Zak was up at eight running on the beach.
Who is this guy? I ask.
He’s gonna crash at some point, Jen says. That battery’s gotta run out sometime.
Yeah when he runs out of uppers, I say.
Bridget ducks out of her fight for a half second to tell me, Frittatas in the oven, sorry, it was the best I could do. I pull a casserole dish out of the oven and scoop out a helping of fritatta for myself and Athena. I return the dish to its berth and pour us each a tall glass of iced coffee. Athena arrives to accept my offering and we sit at the dining room table, where Lisa is watching the news.