This ran last year on It’s About The Book. Doing a repost here this year. It features Miki and Damie… a short piece about Thanksgiving, family and what it’s like being with the Morgans on the Day of Feasting and Family. I’m cooking today. Have a great weekend and most of all, be excellent to each other.
Wild Turkey
“Them downstairs? They’re fucking loons.” Damien shivered as he plopped down next to Miki, nudging his best friend over so he had space on the bean bag nest Miki’d made against a dormer window. “Mad as fucking hatters, the lot of them.”
He’d rooted the singer out, finding his not-so-secret hiding place on the Morgans’ widow walk. A wide overhang kept a large portion of the loft bone dry despite the not-so-gentle deluge of San Francisco rain and when Miki unearthed a bottle of whisky he’d brought up with him, Damien nearly kissed his blood brother nearly senseless in thanks.
The thick blankets Miki’d hauled out with him didn’t hurt either.
“Pass that over, Sinjun.” Damie motioned towards the bottle as soon as he got comfortable under the quilts. He took a long drag on the bottle, hissing at the whisky’s bite. “God, this stuff’s like having an argument with you. Satisfying but a damned kick in the nuts.”
“I love you too, asshole,” Miki grumbled. “Why’d you come up here?”
“Why’d you?” Damie shot back.
It was a delicate tug-of-war they played—a cat-and-mouse game only they knew the rules to. Miki would badger, either into a hole or a growling attack then Damien would soothe or wrestle. With Kane around, the attacks were to a bare minimum. Someone had to poke furiously at Miki before he would tear them apart but the holing up, that remained the same.
As did Miki’s love of whisky.
“Your dad know you stole this?” Damie passed the bottle back.
“Who do you think gave it to me?” Miki snorted. “Best. Dad. Ever.” Continue reading “RePost: Wild Turkey (A Sinners Short)”
Rhys Ford 