Michael Malone - Weebly

Leave that alone!"
Luke picked up Polly's glasses from the street.
"What happened?"
She flushed. "I don't know."
Smalter kept his hand on the throttle. "I said, you
almost ran into this girl, Limus! The least you can do is
apologize. For Christ's sake, what's the matter with
you?"
Barnum's face was bloated with indignation, his
scalp wet beneath the thick coat of hair spray. "Get out
of here!" he snarled, and with a jerk pried Smalter's
hand off the handlebar. Then, open-palmed, he struck
the pharmacist in the chest, knocking him down into the
street. Smalter's head hit the curb.
"Hey!" Luke lunged at Barnum, who'd already
slammed down on the starter pedal. The cycle jumped
away.
"Luke. Never mind, come back!" Smalter
scrambled to his feet, red-faced. The elbow of his suit
jacket was ripped and his hand bloody. "Yes, yes, I'm
okay," he said impatiently, pulling away from Luke's
hand and turning to Polly. "Are you all right? Polly?"