high school dropout out of a job out of options soon to be out of the rented studio apartment he went to the local bar and drank himself to the point he had to vomit to make room for more and next thing he knew he was dating a woman named Cactus Life can get pretty weird when you don’t live it consciously I knew the guy and heard he moved in with his lover and started a new life I really, really hope the headline “LOCAL ALCOHOLIC DEVELOPS SCHIZOPHRENIA, DISMEMBERS GIRLFRIEND PLANTS HER LIMBS IN FLOWERPOTS, STICKS NEEDLES IN THEM” is not about him
the atmosphere in the living room felt classic He kept asking what was wrong and she kept saying nothing was wrong when clearly there was something very wrong He counted and it took precisely 74 questions, true detective’s work, to make her say it “Well perhaps I am a little mad,” she said “Jesus Christ,” he said, “why?” And she asked, “Do I have my panties on or not?” “What? What the…? How do you want me to know?” “Exactly,” she said. “You can’t possibly know because you didn’t check. You think I’m wearing a skirt because I wanna look trendy while staying indoors? Why must you be so blind, man?” “Well shit, I don’t know,” he snapped, “perhaps it has something to do with the fact that your nine-year-old kid is around and I’m trying to be a decent human being. Have you considered that?” “Oh, so you’re saying you’ve got no skills?” she said “Skills?” he raised his voice higher. “Oh, so reaching under a woman’s skirt without her kid noticing is a skill now? Is that how you view the perfect man, darling?” “Hey, lower your volume. He’ll think we’re fighting.” He threw his hands up. “And we aren’t?” She rolled her eyes. The quarantine lockdown had just begun
She stretched on the bed and reached with her long leg and placed her foot on his desk, before him, on the notebook he was writing in.
“Wow,” she said. “Your place is so small, like a box of matches. And so empty. So lonely. Why don’t you ever have anyone over? I never see or hear you talking to people. Why must you be like that?”
“I don’t like people,” he said.
“Don’t ask silly questions. For the same reason I don’t like hotdogs. I just don’t like them.”
“Do you like me?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Would you like me to leave?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know a lot of things, boy. I came to you because… I wanted to have a place from which I’d be missed if I left. I thought the heart of someone as lonely as you would be…
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there have been too many fights lately she was a musician and she put it as, “Darling, we need to change the tune.” He was a writer and he shot her and then himself
it was dark and hot and every breath entered with salty sweat inside the nose the mouth was gagged and the whole head covered by a black trash bag with two very small holes, unaligned with her nostrils Her skin was itchy all over but there was no scratching with hands and feet bound to the chair She didn’t realize that she was in hyperventilation and it was making things worse After the four hours it took him to come back to the basement he found the greatest disappointment of his life He found her dead There’s no feeling like paying good money for a toy only to bring it home and find that it’s broken before you get to play with it He broke down and cried for a whole hour as he sat on her dead lap and caressed her hair and kissed her gagged mouth and sucked the snot from her nose She was beautiful too Weeks later he was unable to forget her He carried her eyeball inside his mouth wherever he went
She pushed gently against me and fell on the bed Stretched a leg towards me began unbuttoning at her jeans I helped her take them off Not too gentle, not too rough Grinning, she turned around in bed and said, “I just remembered, you never told me what your muse looks like.” “Huh?” “And please don’t tell me it looks like me. We both know that’s bullshit sweet talk poets use to get girls. Don’t lie to me, boy. What does your muse look like? You can tell me.” I reached for her foot moved it out of the way not too gently, not too rough Reached for the panties She pushed my hand away not too gently, not too rough “Tell me. Is it, by any chance, a little girl locked inside a basement like it was for my ex-boyfriend? Do you whip her when she’s naughty and doesn’t give you inspiration? Do you deny her food and the bathroom?” “What?” “Tell me, poet! Do you? Do you lie on your back when you masturbate and imagine the muse squat above your face and shower you with her piss as blessing?” I took a step back. “What?” “Oh fuck,” she said. “Just tell me already what your muse looks like and how d’you get intimate with her. Tell me!” “I, I don’t know. I don’t work like that.” She stopped touching herself Watched me expecting to add more I gave a shrug. Honestly, the last time I thought of a muse it was some broke, homeless young guy, scrawny as a putrid plank and roaming the streets He had nothing in this world but hunger A hunger that possessed him and made him write like a madman That guy was my muse But I figured she wouldn’t care to hear about that Anyway, we didn’t go out for long after that evening She said we’re not compatible because I’m too vanilla
It’s been a rough rainy season and rain always put father in the drinking mood He drank more in this rainy season than ever before in his life Mother’s missing teeth and broken shoulder were proof of that Surprisingly the old story about falling down the stairs held up with the doctors Well, just like he messed his wife up the rainy season messed up the roof of the house He downed what was left of a bottle of vodka and got the ladder and a few tools and went out His son held the ladder for him He always cursed plenty when he worked on something. He was cursing his wife as he hammered at the roof and said something about his son not being his and the second best thing about his fall was that the son didn’t even have to shake the ladder, as planned Father just fell on his own thanks to the vodka he drank before climbing up there The first best thing about father’s fall was that he landed on some screwdriver in his pocket and got stabbed in the kidney The pain must’ve been something to follow him all the way to the afterlife as he bled to death and cried silently The kid watched him, watched his watering eyes, and kicked dust in his face and went back inside the house They waited until it was too late and then called the emergency number
He was a boxer Picked up the craft at six and never put it down Unfortunately though being a good boxer doesn’t earn you a good job in today’s society. Best he could do was bouncer at a local bar His IQ wasn’t much help either He beat up quite a number of troublemakers and earned a reputation became a local celebrity The women desired him and got him and life was good until the one invincible opponent stepped into the ring Well, there are many invincible opponents in a man’s life but his was prostate cancer All the women who wanted to take pictures with him and have his autograph on their chests and wanted to take him home meant nothing now One of them was a rich older lady who gifted him a car after he served her a few times in the bedroom He used it to drive at full speed into a pole And as it happens after someone dies, the people had only good words to say about him They thought he didn’t leave much behind but one of the girls he’d been with knew better She rubbed her swollen belly as she thought of him. It’ll be fine as long as her husband wouldn’t suspect anything
She parked in his driveway and got out of the car and went to the door and knocked A woman opened up “Oh, hi. You must be my husband’s date.” “Um… what?” “Oh, it’s okay. We’re in a very open marriage, really. It’s fine. Come in.” She tried to remember a time when she felt more embarrassed and out of place. Failed. Gave up. Came in. The woman closed the door behind her Locked it Took out the gun Fired It was worth it The husband was dead in the bathtub. Shot in the head And his wife used his phone to text this other woman and ask her to come over The wife got a very, very light sentence and no one disagreed with her actions She was the hero all local housewives wanted to be like, an inspiration, a celebrity, someone they looked up to