Halloween Hits

Daddy and the Void 🔞

In the warm black of night, desert and mountain rolled endlessly in all four directions as well as a thin dusty and dark highway.

The Namibian city population was extremely low and considered a ghost town so for the entire time MIKE had been driving, it came as no surprise that he hadn’t passed another living soul.

His silver 2014 Mercedes-Benz S63 AMG idled on the side of the road, the display screen reading 2:57 AM. It was almost showtime.

A Month Ago

Half past midnight and MIKE was completely lit on a yacht in Miami drinking mango tequila at a party held by a close connection.

A spanish sweetheart from Miami with long bleach-blonde hair straddled his lap rubbing up and down his arms with her tongue rolling on his neck. She was whispering in Spanish, selling candy all up in his ear while he licked his lips chatting up two pretty women, one mixed with something he couldn’t put his finger on and one caramel-skinned and fully black.

They said they were down for a foursome and he was ready to get nasty. That was when he made eye contact with a skinny guy in all black who looked at him at the same time and gave him the thumbs up, scanning the women who surrounded MIKE.

MIKE nodded. The guy looked like he was ill, he was pale and emaciated with sunken eyes lined in black. His eyes were two different colors, one whited out and one red. Looked like one of them rock dudes.

“Aye bruh, you want a drink,” MIKE called trying to be decent. That was the kind of guy he was. He believed in releasing positive energy to recieve it. Maybe the guy would eat something from the tray of assorted fruits.

“No, but that’s a mighty fine spread you got there,” he spoke briefly eyeing the women.

MIKE lifted the joint in his other hand and held it out offering it to the man who took a long drag as if he’d been deprived and handed it back blowing out the smoke, head back and eyes closed like he was having a small orgasm.

“That’s gooood shit,” he sighed handing it back.

“Kenyan Kush,” MIKE smirked. It was a gift from Lupita Nyong'o, given to her when she went to Kenya. She’d said he needed to try it. Maybe he’d kick his secret cigarette habit. He hated cigarettes, but every blue moon he’d smoke them.

“Kenyan,” the guy repeated, his voice smoky as a rock singer from back in the day, maybe the 70’s or 80’s. An Ozzy Osbourne or something. He had the hair for it. It was messy with no luster, but MIKE could appreciate that the guy had a look. “Let me tell you something, you look like a guy who can handle a good time.”

MIKE took a puff of the joint and released the smoke as the woman on his lap began to dry hump him impatiently. He passed off the joint to the black girl.

“I like to enjoy myself."

The caramel black girl had dimples when she smiled. The pale white man’s eyes returned to MIKE with a look that said again that he was impressed.