Bone supplies the words. I make up more rules. 250 words. I add a sort of theme based on one word. Tonight it was “scarce.”
Janie was sweating. The subway from Queens hadnâ€™t been air conditioned, had contained many people from all different countries who apparently ate food that left odors on their sweating skin that went to their shirts or blouses.
Stinky un-air conditioned subway that had been stuck underground for half hour. Janie wanted to die. She arched her body onto the cool tiled subway wall, and looked at the filthy subway tile floor.
Janie thought about how pretty the subway tile would be if it wasnâ€™t encrusted in many layers of black dirt. Damn subway, damn city, damn Son of Sam who wrote to Jimmy Breslin, and targeted long haired brunette girls like her. Janie and her boyfriend lived on Dartmouth Street in Forest hills Gardens just a few blocks from a killing.
Tomorrow they were going to Springs, East Hampton until September. Brunette girls were becoming scarce in the city. Her boss had gladly agreed to give her extra time office in lieu of pay. Janie reminded him of his daughter who was visiting friends in Greece at his insistence. How crazy was that? Every girlâ€™s parents seemed to insist that they take time off from their jobs, even if they lived in Manhattan. Nobody felt safe.
It wasnâ€™t 9 AM and the temperature was above 80. While Janie walked the four blocks two avenues to her overly air-conditioned office she wondered if he would ever be caught. This wasnâ€™t the way she wanted an extended vacation.