Read Muerte Con Carne for Free Online

down her cheek.

3
     
     
    Felix couldn’t sleep at first, but had leaned his seat back and pretended to be asleep. His headache had dissipated some, but still lingered. He could tell Marta was in no mood for company, so he just left her alone, turned his back to her, and closed his eyes.
    There might be a lot on her mind, but her tantrums, the instantaneous mood swings were finally starting to piss him off. He’d grown used to this kind of thing over time, but she had been thanking him for coming with her, was holding his hand, only to go silent and get that you’re-fucking-annoying look every time he said or did anything. And in the diner, staring into her eyes, her hand resting on his, he nearly popped the question right then and there. What could possibly be more romantic than proposing with a belly full of shitty food and surrounded by racists?
    He could tell this was going to take some strategic timing, and it only intensified his anxiety about it. Maybe I just won’t do it. Maybe I should wait until all of this shit is over.
    Not a bad plan, really. Whatever was waiting for them in the upcoming days of doing this documentary was sure to only bring them closer together. That’s what he hoped anyway.
    Once he got his mind to stop racing, sleep started peeling strips of his consciousness away. He rested his head against the door and drifted off.
     
    ***
     
    “Hey.”
    He startled awake, his leg flinching and colliding with the bottom of the dash. In his dream, he had proposed to her, and she had said yes. Her smile had been so big in the dream, bigger than he’d ever seen in real life, and she had kissed him. They were just about to make love when the harsh tapping on his shoulder pulled him from his fantasy.
    “We’re here.” She pursed her lips, raised her eyebrows. They pulled into the small parking lot of a ratty looking motel. Dust seemed to cover everything in sight. The town looked to be in the middle of the desert, dry bushes and cacti sprouting from the dirt all over.
    He sat up, adjusted the seat so it was upright. The sun was just going down, melting down in the distance like spilled orange juice on the horizon.
    “This is it, huh?”
    Marta had picked the place out weeks ago. Said it was perfect. Only a few miles away from the border, and from her research, this area had plenty of potential for her documentary. That’s all she would say about it, though.
    Potential. What the fuck does that even mean?
    Felix rubbed the sleep from his eyes, took a long look at their surroundings. The street they were on was pretty bare, a few broken down businesses on either side of it. A group of Mexican men sat on lawn chairs in front of what appeared to be an abandoned store, drinking beer and listening to a small hand radio playing tejano music. The men glared at the car as Marta pulled up to the front office. Felix was surprised to see a small swimming pool on the other side of the parking lot, dead leaves and bugs floating and swirling on the surface.
    Felix reached over, put his hand on her thigh and squeezed. “Thanks for driving.”
    “Let’s get checked in. I need a shower.”
    He leaned across, tried to kiss her, but she turned her face. His lips fell awkwardly on her shoulder and he kissed her shirt there. “Come on, Marta. We’re here, we made it. Why don’t you try and relax, huh? Just a little? I’ve been thinking about last night all day. I’m dying over here.”
    “Are you serious right now? I swear to god, sometimes…” She rolled her eyes, stepped out of the driver’s door, and hurried into the front office of the motel.
    Felix just sat there for a minute, smiling, shaking his head. He drummed his fingers on the dash before stepping out of the car. Even with the sun down, the air was still hot, and he felt his skin spewing sweat as he stood there. He imagined Marta on top of him, perspiration sparkling like crystals on her naked skin, both of them slick with sweat as they fucked the