"6 & Davidson Series" (True) Life Stories By; Roberto Dilemma

"6 & Davidson Series" Vol#2 "Vicky's Bloody Dive" Roberto Dilemma

“6mile  & Davidson Series”  VOL # 2”

This part of the “6 & Davidson Series is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

The author assumes no responsibility for the loss of consciousness, life, bladder control, loved ones, or sanity.

ANY resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living, dead, or anywhere in between, IS ENTIRELY COINCIDEENTAL.

Due to the content of this story…it should not be read by just anyone:

you agree that this story and related materials will not be rented, leased, loaned, sold, transferred, assigned, broadcast in any media, publicly exhibited, reproduced, copied, recorded, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise.

It has course language

Adult situations..

And just bad-crazyness.

It will be rated accordingly

…stop reading now!

"Vicky'S Bloody Dive"    by: Roberto Dilemma

 “The Kreskie Crib” 

     Now this is not the old Doctors offices that we used as an apartment in the last story. “Close enough”.

     This is at a place that everyone “fondly” referred to as, “The Kreskie Crib”. (“Cause that was the name of the street it was on)

    It was a big old farm house built in 1890. A big red brick two story home, nice big covered front porch. Lots of big windows.  It had a beautiful Mountain Ash  Tree in front. We let it grow wild. It hung down low close to the over grown hedges that we also let grow wild. At some point in this house’s history, someone had a very big rose garden. These we also let grow wild. They were quite beautiful, there were a lot of them. All over the side and back yard. Sometime they would get so plentiful,  after, “Mourning Cleanup”, I’d cut some and put them in the nicest jar (or whatever) I could find and set them on the kitchen table.  The only thing we cut was the grass, I was never much into controlling nature. Wild is often beautiful.

    Plenty of privacy. Maybe that was farmland back then. (1890) Now it was built up and near an intersection called, “French Rd. & Grasshit”. Total ghetto. (new I-94)

    We were often hungry there. This was not a good place to be hungry. There was a potato chip factory across Grasshit. “Better Made”. (Good chips) They had big semi-trucks full of potato’s. They use to pull up on this, “Thing”. It tilted, so the semi looked like it was doing a wheelie. That’s how they dumped all the potatoes off the truck. They went into a chute of sorts. When they started to make those chips, god-damn, it smelled so good. Fuckin’ get your stomach just groaning.

    Down the way, just one an a half blocks down Grasshit, there was a soda pop factory, Faygo.

They must have made a flavor a day. Because when they made orange, that’s all you smelled all day…into the night. Grape, same thing. Etc. I think you get the picture. Well if we were hungry all we could think of was chips and soda. This house was in the north where the people call it, “Pop”. Not soda, like in the southeast.

    There was only two houses on the little part of the street where we lived.  A smaller house, with a little old couple living in it. Then there was our lot, which was pretty big. Then our house, on the corner.

     In front of our house, across the street was a daycare.

Yes, place where people left their small children while they went off to do whatever? It was called, “Sleepy Hollow Child Care Center” It was painted, grass green.  The back, of the day care faced the front of our house. There was a little patch  of grass behind it, with an eight foot chain link fence with four strands of barbed wire, and razor wire rolled around that. The front of, “Sleepy Hollow” was on Grasshit”.  We never seen anyone out there. As a matter of fact we never seen anyone, anywhere around the building. We speculated as to why the fence?  Maybe divorced parents would come and snatch their kids back? But…we never seen any kids? Maybe the kids were super wild? How fuckin’ wild could they be? Anyway it was a never ending source of wonder for all that lived there and visited. Everyone started calling it, “Sleepy Hollow Concentration Camp”.