I wake up.
Everything hurts.
I check to see if I’m bleeding.
Just bruised, scratched and sore.
This time.
Checking my nose to see if it’s broken, I smell the most wonderful aroma.
I wobble out of bed, stagger to the kitchen, and Tiffany’s there making the most incredible breakfast.
As she always does.
But the price of admission is steep, I think, rubbing my wrist.
I gotta break it off… before she breaks it off.
And then the first bite.
Another. And another.
She reels me back in.
I finish. She smiles.
Tomorrow. We’ll break up tomorrow.
After breakfast.
Tag: romance
In What Size?
We get a lot of catalogs in the mail.
Especially during the holidays.
Some of them are geek toy catalogs for me, but by far my wife gets more of the furniture, clothing, and fancy stuff catalogs.
Sometimes, I circle something interesting and leave it in her chair.
She does the same to me, circling stuff she might want and leaving it in my workbag.
One day, there’s a Victoria’s Secret catalog in the bag.
I look through it, but nothing’s circled.
Except for the name.
Mine.
It’s my catalog?
I laugh, and write “What size do you want this?”
The Elegant Elephant
The Elegant Elephant
Dons his top hat
Puts on a tuxedo
Gives his wallet a pat
“Where are the tickets
To the opera?” he thinks
”Are they lost? Are they gone
If they are, well, that stinks”
”They’re at the box office”
Says his wife, heaving sighs
”I knew that, I knew that”
The old elephant lies
His wife says “You’re senile
Or maybe you’re drunk
If it weren’t attached
You’d forget your trunk!”
“How do I look?”
“I think you look fine.”
She gives him a stare.
“I mean, you look simply divine.”
And they had a good time.
Disintegration
Audio tape is just iron oxide particles glued to tape.
After a few years, the glue wears out, or the particles get worn off.
I find the tape you left me when you left me.
All the reasons, all the things I did wrong.
I mark the spot where you say you love me, but.
Stop.
I cut the tape into a loop, stick it in the player, and open the bottle of wine.
Then, I hit Play.
Over and over, you say you love me.
The tape degrades, disintegrates. Particles go. With each loop, you fade, love fades… slowly…
Buffoon
I took my girl to the county fair
Winning games with such manly flair
She coveted a gigantic balloon
But instead, I got a big baboon
Despite all the ululation and wails
It picked out the bugs from her pigtails
A commotion resulted from all the fuss
Then it climbed up a pole and threw dung at us
I apologized, admitting defeat
We abandoned it out in the street
When I tried to play all the games again
They were rigged, there was no way I could win
I lost my girl at the county fair
As
If
You
Care
The Woodwork
I was told that when I was finished my novel, publishers would be coming out of the woodwork.
I dreamed of publishers, crawling out of the walls… my dresser… the floorboards, reaching for me through the darkness…
I’d wake up screaming, thrashing about.
That’s how the accident happened.
My wife tried to wake me up, and I knocked her down, head hitting the lamp…
The trial was a circus, and I ended up with a 20 year sentence.
I finished my novel in prison.
Publishers aren’t coming out of the woodwork for it.
Good. At least I can sleep now.
The Right Man
“One day, you’ll find the right one. You work too hard.”
Remembering her mother’s words; staring at her reflection in the shiny temporal engine, every wrinkle under her tired eyes.
Another night at the lab, alone, hunting for chronatons.
Tonight, she found them, and they exploded.
Nausea… Waking up slowly.
She breathed air so fresh… Outside… Trees… Beautiful clouds… Pristine…
And a man carrying a blood-soaked jawbone, standing next to a body.
She rubbed her forehead. Still a bit dizzy. The lab. The explosion. The-
It had… worked?
The man dropped the weapon, reached down.
“My name’s Lily,” she said.
The Radio
There’s something special about our song playing on the radio.
Sure, we have a record of it.
A tape of it.
A CD of it.
It’s on both of our iPods, iPhones and laptops.
But it’s not the same as it playing on the radio.
Chance. Serendipity.
It is luck or is it fate?
I don’t know, but I do know it means something.
I pick up the radio, go into the bathroom, and say “They’re playing our song.”
You look up from the tub. “What the hell do I care?”
I nod, and toss the radio into the tub.
Whirlwind
The whirlwind catches the leaves on the ground and tosses them everywhere.
It’s hard to see, Becky holds my hand tight, running as fast as we can to the barn.
Her long blond hair, waving in every direction, caught by the breezes.
As we make it to the barn, I slam the door shut. “Are you okay?”
She is covering her baldness, scowling at me.
“Go get my hair,” she demands.
I push against the door, fighting the wind.
“Can’t you just wear a hat?”
“Go get it.”
The look on her face was…
I’d rather face the damn tornado.
The Divorce of Figaro
Did you know that Mozart wrote a sequel to The Marriage Of Figaro?
It’s called The Divorce Of Figaro.
A year after the chaotic wedding day, Figaro is lamenting his crazy.
Seductions and singing.
Feasts and fancy.
Subterfuge and plots.
The Count and The Countess are on the rocks, too. The entire mansion is a wreck, every treasure having been smashed against walls in endless fighting.
The four take their fighting to the street, and they bump into each other.
They end up divorcing, The Count marries Figaro, and the curtain comes down.
A good story, but the music sucked.