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Kisses, Suzi: A Short Horror Story




Joanie Chevalier



This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.



Copyright @2017 Joanie Chevalier

All rights reserved.



CALCULATING… TURN RIGHT IN EIGHT HUNDRED FEET… JIMMIE.

Jimmie’s girlfriend arched her eyebrows. “Since when has your GPS called you by your first name?” Brenda gave him a thumbs up. “Personalized service, I see how it is,” she added, winking. She leaned towards him and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“I know, right?” Jimmie chuckled as his hands deftly spun the wheel to make the right turn. “And you said I was so,” he wiggled his index and middle fingers in an air quote, using his knee to steer, “old-fashioned by not using my phone, like everybody else.” He feigned pain as Brenda playfully flicked at his upper arm.

“It all started when I downloaded the upgrade a few days ago. Listen.” Jimmie cleared his throat and pushed a button on his dash-mounted GPS. “Directions to Bob’s house.”

CALCULATING… HERE ARE THE DIRECTIONS TO YOUR MOM’S HOUSE.

“No, to BOB’S… B-O-B,” Jimmie articulated, his neck craning toward the device.

CALCULATING… HERE ARE THE DIRECTIONS TO YOUR MOM’S HOUSE, JIMMIE. YOU HAVEN’T VISITED YOUR MOM IN… CALCULATING… SIX WEEKS.

Brenda opened her mouth in surprise, then smirked behind her hand.

“That’s never happened before,” Jimmie mumbled. He stopped playing with the GPS’s buttons when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen and groaned. Brenda gave him a questioning look and mouthed, What?

“Hi, Mom.”

“Jimmie, I’m so excited you’re coming over,” Jimmie’s mother crowed through the Bluetooth speaker. “Is Brenda coming, too?”

Jimmie looked over to the passenger seat at Brenda, but she shrugged, crossed her eyes, and stuck out her tongue. She wasn’t much help.

“Ah, Mom, sorry, we’re going to Bob’s this afternoon for a BBQ and some football. You remember meeting Bob and his wife once? They live out in the country?”

There were a few seconds of stony silence. “Well, you’re the one who texted me,” his mom huffed.

“I didn’t text you—”

A buzzing noise interrupted him. “Just as well. I’ve got to finish up the cookies for the bake sale raffle tomorrow. Good-bye LONG LOST son.”

Jimmie grimaced, expecting a loud tirade before his mom hung up, but it didn’t come, which meant she was really angry.

“You know we’ve got to visit her soon,” said Brenda as she inspected her cuticles.

“Here, check my texts, would you? Why in the world would she think we were coming over?”

Brenda touched her fingertip to the cell’s screen and read out loud. “‘Mom, I’m coming over to visit. Call me.’ And you left two exclamation points.”

“What? How in the heck did that text get sent?” Jimmie’s brows creased in thought. “Why are you giggling?”

You, texting exclamation points?”

“Yes, exactly my point, thank you very much. What man would, come to think of it?”


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