By Bogdan Dragos This morning too it jumped on his bed and cried and pounced on his face and licked his forehead Now he had a reason to wake up To feed the cat And he had a reason to take showers Because the cat didn’t like to lick a greasy face He had a […]
no matter how fragile the light, it still beats the darkness
A Man Doesn’t Need Much To Cling To Life
Written by Bogdan Dragos A lone ant crawled into his hair and went across his forehead to his eyelid He woke up Sand all around him and wood above But this was so far from hell Hell was a thing of the past now Now he had her by his […]
A Man Doesn’t Need Much To Cling To Life
kitten in the shoe By Bogdan Dragos
the room was cold and there were gray flowers of dampness blooming all over the walls He took off his shoes and the shoes were the warmest things in the room so the kitten climbed into one of them He sat on the mattress in the corner and petted the cat in the shoe He smiled and said to the kitten, "At least I have no debts." Even God agreed with him. He winked through the hole in the ceiling
the last notebook
he takes his old wrinkled notebook and the black pen and finds a spot from which he can observe the people and write down what he imagines to be their inner conversations It passes the time and it takes away attention from his own inner conversations It’s like a prescription drug he has to take for the rest of his life and the twenty-nine bookshelves filled with notebooks he has at home stand as proof of that But this will be the last one, he promises himself as he closes the notebook and walks up to the bridge
APATHY by Bogdan Dragos
She came from work pretty early and I knew when I saw her that she quit yet again She changed four jobs in the last five months and got a tattoo that said APATHY on her lower back Her father died five months ago. He died of what's called almost-drunk-driving He was sipping on a beer bottle while driving fairly slow on a country road But the front wheels hit some log or something and the impact triggered the airbag It bloomed in his face and stabbed the beer bottle into his eye causing him a major trauma to the brain R.I.P old man. Maybe not your wife but your daughter sure will miss you She's coming from work dirty and ragged Approaches me and demands a cigarette I give her a small lighter and she tells me to go fuck myself "Well you're done with work early today," I…
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around the smokey hole
You can still be good at what you do without liking what you do It’s more common than you’d imagine The words reflected his face in the steamy bathroom mirror He watched until he felt cold in his nakedness and shivered reached for the towel wiped got out of the bathroom put on clothes and returned to his writing desk The blank page was ugly unlike the somewhat encouraging words on the steamy mirror He reached into the drawer pulled out the pen stuck it into his mouth clicked it Reached again into the drawer pulled out the gun pointed it at the blank page fired He wrote for the remainder of the day and the next night around the smokey hole It was finally beautiful
to choose the bottle
there are many reasons a woman can say her final goodbye to you and somehow they all feel different He supposed the worst of all had to be when her final goodbye is influenced by another man made sense but that wasn't his case Also he was too drunk to think straight now. And in too much pain “It's the final goodbye,” she had said. “You chose the bottle over me, now live with the bottle. Goodbye.” Goddammit, this really hurt His dick was only getting harder and more blue stuck in the mouth of the bottle Yet still, through all the pain and the dizziness he reached for the phone and called her. He said, “Hey, I just want you to know that… It was you I had in mind when I did it. I did it while thinking of you, love.” She hung up
a distracted dreamer
what else to do when the rain falls so heavy against the window outside? Get melancholic get poetic have a drink have another close and then lock the door to your room and don't listen to the voices coming from outside They want to distract you They don't want you to be successful and make it in life They're all haters He covered his ears and squinted his eyes at the computer screen doing his best to block out the negativity that came from beyond the door “I can't get up!” the voice croaked. “Come help me. I can't get up.” And then with a cry, “Please!” “Shut the fuck up, grandma! I'm trying to write in here. Jesus Christ, I'm trying to make it big, don't you understand? For fuck's sake now.” He had also sent a manuscript to a potential publisher and was waiting for a reply. It's been two days already
the female assassin
the ashtray was looking more and more like a sick hedgehog and her yellowed fingers added one more quill to it she sat back in her chair work wasn't in the best of stages lately and her office looked like a junkie's trailer. You could scrape the nicotine off the walls. In fact, she would get nicotine under her nails if she just scratched her skin anywhere But otherwise she was a beauty and that was a problem. Beautiful women have the worst luck in marriages The husband left and the two girls went with him They were sick and tired of her habit to consume more cigarette smoke than oxygen And drinking was also a problem though not nearly as big The worst drinking has ever done to her was to make her lose the driving license which she never bothered to take back The real problem was, as always, a lack of money. If the damn phone didn't ring soon she would have to kill someone for a pack of cigarettes Assuming she could still kill someone with her body rotting from the inside. She was fine with breast cancer but now lung cancer joined too and it was by far nastier Still that was all right It doesn't take a healthy body to pull a trigger And speaking of triggers She opened a drawer in her desk took out the gun studied it Not loaded She browsed through the drawer Only one bullet left. One single bullet. These things cost money too Damn it But it's like they said back in the mercenary camp The last bullet is always preserved to be used on the self She loaded the bullet into the gun A life lived well is one lived without regrets and without ever asking for mercy or feeling sorry for yourself At 39 she had that. There was nothing else to be taken away from it She put the gun to her temple Smiled "Except for a final smoke."
Cajun Mutt Press Featured Writer 02/01/21
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a dead body in the room
there was a dead body in the room
Had to be
Else where did the smell
come from?
Every time he’d turn around to catch
a ghost or a zombie
from the corner of his eyes the smell
would slap him
A smell of death
He decided he’d look around for the
dead body
but later
He didn’t have the energy now
or the disposition
or anything
He only wanted to sleep
some more
He just woke up and needed a good
nap to recover
Perhaps there were times when it
didn’t make sense
but now, today, nothing made more
sense that this
All you need is a healthy
dose of chronic depression and it makes
sense
Just like not cleaning the room
and not taking a shower
in a time longer than memory can be
bothered to remember
So he paced back to…
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