Like a bad drug feeding his anticipation for regular hot meals and a clean, dry bed, he agreed to their condition of driving a plain white van, shuttling the shelter’s young girls down to the business men on 24th street. An undercover food truck of nooners ordered à la carte by repressed, family men looking for some niblet of excitement to spice up their dull, white bread lives.
Standing a cautious distance away, he lounged in the shade of a dying oak tree, smoking his last bummed cigarette. He stood vigil over the rendezvous, mesmerized by the rhythmic rocking of the bumpers. Done with his smoke, he ground out the stub. Hands in his pockets, he wandered, head down, to the back of the van, and rapped on the tinted window. The signal that time was up, and the next client was expected soon.
Coat in hand, hair disheveled and tie askew, John Doe No. 7, stepped out and handed him a business envelope with the agreed upon fee along with a little extra for his trouble. It meant he could afford a bottle of liquid amnesia for later that night.
16 thoughts on “Plain white van”
This is a very interesting read. I really like how you so matter of factly lay out these unusual activities.
Very intriguing. I’d love to learn more of the story you started here.
I see a really interesting story unfolding from this – especially if your main character is supposed to be a younger guy also living at the shelter. A revolt? Revenge? The setup certainly calls for it..
Excellent juxtaposition of business and “pleasure” (and creepmeout).
If I may, some misplaced commas sabotage the reading, and you might consider varying rhythm of adjectives (regular hot meals; a clean, dry bed; a plain white van)
This – Coat in hand, hair disheveled and tie askew – works really well.
I feel revolted and that’s what you wanted a reader to feel perhaps! Great take on the prompt.
I really really like this! Even though the first paragraph my stomache turn.