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Down in the Dirt v056

this writing is in the collection book
Decrepit Remains
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(b&w pgs): paperback book $18.92
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(color pgs): hardcover book $88.45
Decrepit Remains, the 2008 Down in the Dirt collection book
Abrace Ardiente

Adrian Ludens

    Miguel disliked tourists.
    He sat ruminating on this as he watched the American drink. The gringo became more boorish as the night wore on. Rosalita was serving him. Each time she brought the American a drink, he slapped his money down on the far end of the table. Rosalita had to bend forward, giving the leering American an eyeful each time she retrieved the coins.
    After his sixth shot of tequila, the American was having trouble keeping his hands off her. Miguel tossed back his own drink, then stood and approached him.
    “I see you have met Rosalita,” Miguel said.
    The drunk American regarded him suspiciously with watery, bloodshot eyes.
    “You are interested in her, no?” Miguel persisted.
    “I’d like to sow some wild oats in that field,” he slurred, giving Miguel a lecherous wink.
    “Perhaps she is already spoke for,” Miguel commented mildly.
    The American stared down his nose at the smaller man. “By who? You? I don’t think so old man. You wouldn’t stand a chance with a spicy senorita like her.” He uttered a bark of derisive laughter.
    “You misunderstand. Perhaps I can arrange an abrace ardiente for you?” Miguel offered.
    “What the hell does that mean?” the American demanded, swaying on his barstool.
    “The literal translation is a ‘burning embrace’...” Miguel began.
    The American’s eyes lit up. “Lead the way ah-meego!” he boomed, staggering to his feet.
    The tourist followed Miguel outside the cantina. A saguaro cactus loomed beside the path ahead of them as they approached the rear of the building. As they passed under the shadow of the cactus, Miguel abruptly pivoted and shoved the drunk man toward it. The American tottered, and threw his arms out to break his fall.
    He squealed like an animal caught in a trap.
    Miguel left the disrespectful gringo sitting there on the sand, sobbing and feebly struggling to extract the broken cactus spines from his bleeding hands and arms. Having delivered on his promise of a ‘burning embrace’, Miguel returned to the cantina.
    Rosalita was waiting for him.
    “What have you done this time?” she asked him exasperated. “I am a big girl, Papa, I can take care of myself!”



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