I’d like to say that I wiped that from my mind with ease. That the knowledge that my could-be kid was rolling around inside someone didn’t haunt me. If I did, I would be lying, and I don’t lie…except to people I love. I am severely fucked up, but that’s not a newsflash. So yeah, the kicking kid. He or she—I didn’t know what the sex was and I wasn’t sure I wanted to—was more than a concept. I mean, sure, I’d gotten the words into my thick Slavic skull, but the reality? No. That hadn’t come until that kick message. Now it kept popping up at odd times. It would surface when I was showering or watching vapid reality shows on TV. Up it would pop as I shaved or lifted weights at the gym or tried to fall asleep sober. As the hours went by it grew scarier. Kind of like Captain Spaulding, that clownish sick bastard from those Rob Zombie flicks. Kicking Kalinski Kid would appear out of nowhere and scare the living fuck out of me. Which was why I needed a few libations before I buried my face in Dan’s pillow and prayed for sleep.
What do You think about Point Shot 02 - Game Misconduct?
