[ WP ] Free write . Write the first short story that pops into your head .

`` Hey, Big Spender,'' she spits, the rag-doll look in her eyes. She's on the triple splice. It wo n't be long before her corneas give out and she's blind, dying in a dingy hotel room from starvation, because her stomach ca n't eat no more. 
 
 `` Hey, girl,'' says me mechanically. Shit, I'm just a row-walker looking for a bite anyway, might as well give the anemic runt a run between her legs. All goes as planned and we shag on the stained mattress she keeps upstairs in the empty loft. Cloth shreds are nailed above the shattered windows and icey air permeates. 
 
 I smoke a cigarette and sit on the gauged out stove-top in the kitchen, looking through a bored out hole to the world, where an explosive once rendered this apartment unusable. A blimp advertises robotic replacement parts for arms. I hear the prostitute's body shutter in the other room as she drops triple splice and convulses on the floor. 
 
 The smoke makes a pattern in the air. How many millions are like me- roaming this wasteland with dead in their eyes and shit in their pockets? 
 
 Sixteenth street is lit up like Christmas and the air is staler than shaken soda. I get up on my mark to pull his coin and trail him real slow. I'm pretty good at this now, but in the beginning, was n't nothing but a chump with running skills. I had to outrun every mack. Got smooth once my leg splintered and I had to pay out a hospital bill. Almost got caught. 
 
 I reached out my hand to slip it into his back pocket and get my feel on, but before I could lift it, he gripped me real solid and turned his face around. 
 
 `` Wrong one, Ferenk,'' he says and I see him being my nightmare. That motherfucking undercover who tried to nip me in the hospital. 
 
 `` You been coming around here, waiting for me?'' I asked him. He smiles wide and throws on the cuffs. I see more scum fuckers rounding the corners with big black armor and shiney gold badges. I shake my head and sigh. 
 
 But the cop lights on fire- no shit, just pops off in the street and falls over dead. The other scum fuckers get wise and they pick a mark on my forehead, ready to spill my brains on the streets. Before I can squeeze my eye-holes shut and beg the God I do n't believe in for mercy I wo n't get, they all start screaming and burning. Then they all fall over dead. 
 
 That spliced chick walks up to me and burns off my cuffs. My wrists feel like a burn victim, but I'm greatful and I say, `` Damn honey- how you get so hot?'' 
 
 She flicks me her crooked smile and tells me: `` They do n't call it splice for no reason, sugar.'' We beat the scene and do n't look back. It's New Tiajuana or a holding cell for now.
