by breakylegg

One day Norman found a car half-submerged in a swamp containing a sleeping woman in its trunk. His mother was old, tired and cranky but decided it best to give the woman a nice, hot shower; however, the muck from the swamp was caked on so thick she had to get a butcher knife from the house to chisel it off the young woman’s body. Chiseling did the trick, Norman noticed staring through the peephole, for the woman seemed alert and refreshed as she dressed. Yet traces of her previous malady remained, and as he and the woman—Crane, Marion—discussed avian taxidermy, she began regurgitating bits of sandwich onto her plate. So embarrassed was Marion that she paid for the room, drove off into the rainy night, traded her white car for a darker model the following afternoon, and headed east until a cop pulled her over and convinced her to sleep for the night. Phoenix was further than she remembered and she arrived at dusk, stopped home to exchange her black brassiere for a white one, dropped off $40,000 at the office, before meeting her lover, Sam, in a motel at 2:49pm for a seedy lunchtime tryst.


breakylegg, author of Momma's Boy, would like to continue spending his days watching Alfred Hitchcock's films backwards, but he is now officially employed and doesn't have the time.

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