Stupid Frank by xTx
Stupid Frank
Frank takes all kinds. Doesn’t even care. Never has. Never says when. Always says, “Should,” “Could,” “Maybe.” Frank is never definitive. Even while breaking wine glasses against the walls he is still questioning. The way he furrows his brow and looks to me for guidance makes me hate him more.
I point to the shards gleaming the carpet. I tell him, “Walk.”
My horses scream more than Frank. They come when I call them. No hesitation. Manes horizontal, mouths foaming, unlike Frank who sits on his hands, cock pale and flaccid on his thigh. He is no match for my horses. Never has been. Never will be. Their cocks are black and sturdy.
Whenever I take off my belt, I make sure he is watching.
I step my heels along his back, cracking his spine until I hear it break. He flops like a fish but still no screaming. I tell Frank, “Lay your hands flat.” When he does, I pierce them through with my stilettos.
He bleeds silently. Like Christ.
* * *
xTx is a writer living in Southern California. She has been published in places like PANK, Smokelong, Monkeybicycle, Storyglossia, >Kill Author and Wigleaf.
Her new story collection, Normally Special, is available from Tiny Hardcore Press.
She says nothing at No Time to Say It.