Excerpt from Bobby Stitch

From the Inside Flap
An excerpt from Bobby Stitch by Michael Milardo...


"'What happens?'" Blinky repeated my question, twisting his mouth to one side, his eyes suddenly bulging. "What happens? Why...Nothing. Nothing happens. Ever again. Nothing for you. Not a single thing. No TV fights. No title shot. No big pay days. Maybe no more fights. Nothing here in the States, anyway. Nothing. Zippo. Nada. Zilch. Ninguno." Chuckling, pleased with himself, he cut a chunk of meat, stabbed it with his knife, shoved it in his mouth. And chewed, smiling as he did. As if he were chewing on me.
 
Suddenly devastated, as if I had been sucked dry, nothing but a void inside of me, I felt a darkness descend, the void now everywhere, black, inside and outside of me. The world dead, nothing but a starless night, a night without hope or dreams, without a future. Nothing. An end to my career. Black-listed by the Mob, the parasites, rats, and weasels. Not a dime to pay the bills. I fell back in my chair, barely breathing, not sure if I wanted to.
 
"Deal...?" Staring into the void, I heard Satan ask.
"Deal...?" he repeated. Waiting for me to answer.
"Deal...?"
 
I caught a glimpse of his smirk, his weasel mouth moving as he chewed, dots of blood spattered on his shirt cuffs.
 
"Yes..." I said, imagining my father watching me lose. And then rising from the table, weightless, empty, I drifted across the dining room and out the door. Walking, a shriveled nothing, toward 86th Street, rain fell. But not on me. I no longer existed.