Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Public Service Work is Often Thankless

The truck rattled to a halt at the stoplight. "City Special Services," read the sign on the door.

The windows were opaque, but the driver's side was cracked, and a hairy, scar-knuckled hand tipped a bit of ash off a cigarette and onto the street. The back was a mesh cage. Inside, sets of shackles clattered against each other under the vibrations of the engine. The floor was speckled with the rusty marks of old blood. On the back of the cab, a clear red hand-print stood out against the white paint.

The light turned green. The truck rumbled away.


Donna Hole said...

I'd be dialing 911 on my cell if I had been idling behind that car.

Creepy. Likey like.


Scattercat said...

Actually saw this on the road the other day, minus the bloody handprint. I have no idea what Services it provided or how Special they were, but it was weird as all hell.