'Moon Shapes'

Chapter 17: ... And the Pleasure keeps giving. (Dannity)

The breeze felt nice against my simpering skin. Yet, the sudden feeling of being watched crept up short but statuesque legs; generously patting my buttocks.

Keeping with the theme of where I came from, I always planted an acceptable length of sharpness within this faded jean jacket – I know it's not the mid-eighties, but, I utterly could care less of what passes as fashion (if it's comfortable, and a suitable – non-blinding color) And, as the most important, if I happen to like it, then – damn-it, I like it.

That speeds me back to a reminisce of an incident that had happened on one of the first excursions I joined a 'job' with Nikki. It's an occasion that stands alone as one the only times I've ever been insulted by the undead. It was a bit discouraging.

**

"This is honestly the worse idea we've managed come up with at the spur of the moment..." I pleaded of sincere precaution "... we should definitely go back... there's too many places our eyes can't watch at all times!"

Nikki feistily shushed me.

It was absolutely rude; being shushed like a scolded child – as Nikki, and Grady turned the newly up rooted headstone of Milly Todd (I had been an attendee earlier that day).

We were all asked to attend, but I was the only to graciously show-up. Nik was sleeping off a night of shacking any guy she fancied, along with Grady, who I'm sure wasn't too far off on his own tag and release. Grady was her stepbrother and one of the town's main squeezes. Seriously, this guy could disperse gas from his anus and still anybody with working genitals would swoon; till legs were in dangling pendulum-like in the air.

Of course, she could have been on one her numerous rants of 'killings,' or 'voyages,' and it could have blown straight off my head. Once you hear a grand 'one' story – with some minor changes to each happening – you've practically heard an anthology worth of them. At some point, ya just nod your head in agreement, and carry on.

I had forgotten when Milly had finally been put six-foot down a cut-out of earth, but, sure enough as I had the slightest apprehension that I had been mistaken about her, the freshly plowed ground began writhing, and wiggling.

**

I remember hoping that it was a tremendously grotesque worm.

**

Slender fingers forced out of the dark soil; followed rapidly by a forearm, a glimmering diamond bracelet was impossible to ignore as it caught sight of the moon; even in death, she couldn't help but try being even more glamorous than those around her. Wasn't enough the town square had been renamed after her.

Her sheepish shoulder came next, then, the all-out-ghost-like head plooped out. Showcasing a tremendously gaudy amount of contoured make-up; powdered now with grits of mother earth. Full torso now was up sided.

I wanna say that she was buried in her prom gown as she was gorily attacked, before she could properly wear it out. It was bit of a slutty number for burial – at least for me. I suppose if your tata's cost more than a semi-used car then you should show 'em off, even as the deceased.

Finally, standing to her full erect self (she was a bit of an amazon; of course, everyone had a bit of that look posing next to me) her hand accurately positioned to her side. Her slander came almost immediately – and aimed directly at me.

"What the hell is that...the eighties have declared a no to your effort."

I grimaced in response; I wasn't the only standing here... why is it me that she must blow chunks of criticisms toward.