SlamFiction: Ron Stone- Part 11

As I write this introduction, I have been up for 24 hours, I have been working at setting up the new office, and trying to handle the real job as well. So I'm unwinding watching some comedy on Netflix as I write. I'm really hoping to get back to the Buffy Rewatch soon. I've learned it is pretty much impossible to write Ron Stone sections, and give proper attention to the rewatch. Eventually I'll get the buffer back, and be able to focus again on the rewatch, but until then, I'll keep juggling.

Now, on to Ron, after the jump...

Outside, the city was abuzz with life. Cars raced past, onward to parts unknown, each one seemingly oblivious to the fact that there were other drivers around. Cabs darted in and out of the stream of cars, wedging their way into spaces that logic dictated they should not have been able to fit into. Car horns blared, and all around a thousand cell phone conversations only served to add to the deafening cacophony.

Between the sounds of the city, and the shooting pain in my arm, it felt like the world was spinning. I found myself leaning on Ashton for support, as he tried to hail a cab. My mind kept flashing back to that brief glimpse of slitted, reptilian eyes. Every time I blinked I saw them again, and I couldn't help but shudder.

“What's wrong, Ron?” Ashton's reached down, to hold my shoulder. “How is your arm doing?”

“Arm hurts like a motherfucker.” I attempted a smile, and can only imagine how horrible it looked. After a brief moment, I gave up trying, and sighed. “The problem is that man's eyes. There was something unnatural about them.”

“He was dead, Ron. Of course there was something off about them.” He squeezed my shoulder gently, and I choked back a scream of agony. “Best to forget about...” He paused, as he waved frantically at a passing cab. “The way those fuckers keep passing us by, you'd think I was invisible. The hell is their problem?”

He ranted and waved for several more minutes, until finally a cab pulled up. As we slid in, I heard Ashton say, “Take us to Bellevue.”

And as the pain drove me to unconsciousness, my last thought was “I should tell him I don't have any insurance.”

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