Jesus Belch

Cody wondered why his Dad named him Cody when that brick came through the windshield . A fast dance of  safety glass filled the front seat. The dash board was ugly enough, cracked and cratered from being parked under the sun in asphalt parking lots.

He grabbed his smokes and took out his cell phone, hitting a number on redial.

"Fuckin A, Jesus Belch, Mother did it again and I'm jerked around myself" he said. He flipped down the top and shoved it back into his pocket.

Across the street there was a parade of clowns passing by a burger joint and a blood bank. Cody rubbed his eyes as if to clear away some bits of collected morning funk.

"What's going on here?" he asked no one in particular.