Dora Reads: Nerd Church - Short Story: Living the Dream

Sunday, 11 February 2024

Nerd Church - Short Story: Living the Dream

So this is another instalment of my 'Snapshots of Anna Sinclair' series from Medium.

If you want to see the first one - New Money - on Dora Reads, then you can do so here.

Hope you enjoy!

Warning: brief references to domestic violence and prison

Living the Dream

Good morning, Anna Sinclair

Someone sitting behind a pillar - only their legs are visible hanging over the curb. They have a phone on their knees which they're using

Image by Marco Wolff from Pixabay

Anna rolled over, enjoying the brief moment before she remembered why she was sleeping on a floor-mattress. Ugh. Her mouth tasted like something died in there (no, Anna, do not follow that train of thought.)

Someone was snoring. She tried to remember who’d slept here last night — Lacey? Nah, Lacey was with what’s-his-face, the one who slapped her around but she kept going back to; grim. So, not Lacey. Didn’t sound like Russ or Gar — no, couldn’t be Gar, Gar got nicked for pick-pocketing and is back inside. Wanker.

Right. Not Lacey, not Gar. Russ? Maybe?

Jesus Christ, Anna Sinclair, you’re just living the fucking dream, aren’t you? Slept on a dirty mattress in a squat, someone you can’t remember snoring away in the corner. Oh well, at least there’s more than a grand stuffed down your bra — she smacked a hand to her cleavage, just to make sure, and felt the crunch of cash — so there’s that.

She didn’t think the Addison brothers would track her here at least — some smelly squat in Bristol wasn’t exactly their style. They probably thought she’d go to a hotel. Idiots. If they hadn’t tried to rip her off, she’d almost feel sorry for them. Almost.

It was probably Russ.

…Or Wheezy.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

She scrambled to her knees as quietly as she could and peered into the dark corner of the wide room.

Fuck, yep. That was Wheezy. Time to go, Anna.

She plucked her shoes from the floor and slow-mo-ed her way out the door, the bastard still snoring in the corner. Phew.

Right, cross that place off her list.

She’d figure out where to next after she spent some quality in the McDonalds loos, washing herself in the sink.

Living the dream, Anna Sinclair. But that’s OK. You got this.