This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue... Down in the Dirt magazine (v090) (the January 2011 Issue)		Order this issue from our printer as an ISSN# paperback book: or as the ISBN# book “Along the Surface”:

Order this writing in the book Literary Town Hall dirt edition		order the 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book 1,000 Words (the 2011 prose collection book)		get the short poem 226 page collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Tommy Virga’s Love

Edward C. Burton

    When Tommy Virga was six years old he discovered a small hole in his back yard. The mound of muddy earth around its perimeter suggested it had been made by a mole. Tommy assumed it was home to a snake. He saw Doris Jones playing out in her yard, so he called out to her from across the ravine that separated her house from his. She was older than he was; she was in the third grade. But maybe she could help him.
    She came over and studied the hole for a moment before stepping on it causing the mounded dirt around to compress and seal the hole. “There, that’ll kill that stupid snake,” she said. The idea of death was still a new concept to Tommy. And the idea that Doris Jones had just sealed the doom of a living creature left him in awe. “C’mon, let’s play,” she said. As Tommy followed her he kept looking back at the brown spot of moist earth that had once been a hole. When the sun set and Doris heard her mother calling, Tommy went to the back yard again and sat with his arms cradling his knees, staring at the sealed hole. He thought of the snake beneath him and how it would soon be dead because of what the neighbor girl had done to it. Tommy felt a twinge of delicious goose pimples coat his body.
    When Tommy Virga was in junior high school he spent his lunch hours in the library poring over any book he could find on the subject of humans denying other humans the right to live. Nothing excited him more. He found a before and after picture in one history book of the conspirators of Lincoln’s assassination who were hanged. The band of criminals had dark hoods placed over their heads in the first picture as the nooses were being placed around their necks. Tommy closed his eyes and imagined himself there in attendance, amongst the children chasing around the crowd of spectators, and the spectators themselves each with eyes that hungered for justice under the hot afternoon sun. He could grasp the anticipation that weaved through the crowd like something palpable. He imagined catching the last glimpse of terror on the face of the last conspirator before his face was forever hid under its black mask.
    Then he looked at the second picture in which the trap door had been sprung. He could almost hear the wooden floor of the gallows give way. He could hear the dull thud as the bodies of the criminals plunged downward to stop abruptly, too abruptly. He could hear the ladies in their fine dresses gasp out loud. And oh, how he longed to be there. He closed the book and quickly wiped tears from his eyes.
    He found a copy of Blood Letters & Bad Men. He read about one man who was executed in the electric chair. Something happened with the chair’s circuitry and it shorted out at the first throw of the switch. It had to be thrown a second time. A man losing his life in the name of justice, and the power of the man to throw the switch electrocuting a life away. It all excited Tommy more than he could almost bear. The lunch bell rang. Tommy quickly shelved the book, and as he left for his next class he hoped nobody noticed his erection. Blood Letters & Bad Men became his favorite book.
    When Tommy turned twenty he walked into a convenience store and took the girl behind the register as a hostage. He wrestled his way behind the counter with her and wrapped an arm around her neck from behind and held a gun to her temple. He caressed the side of her head with the steel barrel of the gun and with stuttered nervousness mumbled into her ear that he really didn’t want to hurt her. Her trembling body and muffled sobs made him realize that now he had the power to extinguish a life. He thought of Doris Jones. This is not what he wanted. It was the receiving end he needed. The receiving end would be much better.
    Sirens shrilled through the night air, and the store front window became flooded with red and blue lights and hot piercing spotlights. Yes, this was more like it, he smiled. When the policemen exited their vehicles and crouched behind their car fenders Tommy released the girl and pushed her aside. He marched outside with the gun in hand. One policeman stood up, cupped his hands to his mouth, and bellowed for Tommy to drop his weapon. Tommy merely continued his smile and shook his head. He raised the empty pistol and yelled, “I love you guys!”
    The hail of bullets punched into him and knocked him back-wards. Before he lost consciousness and ventured into the great nothing, he thought he was going to climax.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...