New Boomtown

Handsome Kevin got a little off track

The hotel radio murmured, filling his head with ideas.  Ice rattled in the glass as he set it down on the windowsill.  The clinking sounded like the lights through the window looked.  Far off and cold.  The last of the scotch burned its way down his throat.  Contrasted against the chill he felt, it was just what he needed.  He never could seem to stay warm when he was so far from home.

Took a year off from college and he never went back

The streetlights in the valley below lay out in geometric skeins of flickering jewels.  Given the recent weirdness surrounding himself, the travelling man fantasized the grids were an order imposed by an alien consciousness, and he had been granted understanding because of his self-imposed outsider lifestyle.  That, and having found the hotel on the hillside by sheer luck.  He laughed, a grinning death mask reflecting back at him in the glass just inches from his face.  "No one ever accused me of higher understanding", he said to the window.

Now he smokes much too much, got a permanent hack

A pulsing flash of red streaked its way down the wide avenue that curved gently through the valley.  Simultaneously, the police scanner on the dresser behind the traveller flared into life, its little red lights mimicking the car speeding away.  The man jumped, heart pounding.  He listened intently to the squawking voice buzzing from the scanner, finally relaxing.  The report had nothing to do with him.  He looked down at the cigarette smoldering between his fingers, then took a slow drag.  He wondered again why he still smoked.  Ever since the operation last year in Bangkok, and whatever the techs had really done to him, nicotine and many other things had no effect on his system.

deals dope out of Denny's, keeps a table in the back

"One more", he said softly, "one more, and I'm out."  His bloodshot eyes rolled up slightly as he watched the lights of the police car fading up the street.  He leaned on the chilly glass, resting his head against his forearm. 

He always listens to the ground

Absentmindedly, lost in his head, his right hand caressed the silenced pistol that hung at his hip.  The nylon holster and black metal seemed to drink up every scrap of light that fell on it.  His index finger came to rest on the trigger, curling around the viperish feel of the metal.

So I say, I say, welcome to the boomtown

All that money makes a succulent sound

He let go of the trigger, sucked in air between his gritted teeth.  One more, and he was out.

Welcome to the Boomtown.

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Italicized passage above are lyrics from "Welcome to the Boomtown" by David & David.  A fantastic short story set to music.