Category: NaPoWriMo

D: I’m fed up with this place. I’m tired and alone.

O: So you’re just going to forget to acknowledge my presence?

D: I can’t believe you put up with me.

O: Well, it does get difficult sometimes. Come on, you don’t honestly feel like a crotchety old hermit. You’re 22 years old.

D: That’s my body’s age, yes. Based upon the accumulation of my worldly experience in this life, I’ve concluded that being a cynical old fart is really the way to go.

O: But if you really mean that, there’s nothing I can do.

D: It’s my life and my decision.

O: So you won’t mind if I jump off a bridge.

D: You wouldn’t do that.

O: Why do you care?

D: I don’t know, but I do.

O: Is this the classic Dickensian change of heart, Mr. Scrooge?

D: No, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself. Fuck everyone else.

N: Is this an appropriate mindframe?

P: Which one?

N: The gilded one on the left with the portrait of the 19th century fox hunt.

P: Looks expensive.

N: Isn’t that the point? Isn’t aristocracy the goal?

P: For some people, I guess. How about that one on the right?

N: Oh, the one slapped together with reclaimed wood and organic whitewash? What’s that picture in there, an alien scape with two suns in a green sky? I don’t understand it.

P: Nobody understands it. That’s what’s so beautiful about it.

N: But it’s practically free! It’s obvious that nobody wants it.

P: Or it’s so abundant and wonderful that the creator wants to share it with as many people as possible.

N: You’re a terrible salesperson.

P: You’re a terrible human being.

Stopped up, my ideas are stocked up on a shelf too high to reach. I need to stand on an eight-foot ladder, past the warning line and on tip toes, only three fiberglass legs planted firmly on the tile. If I get greedy and load up with solutions, I fall. If I leave well enough alone and creep back down the ladder, I feel like shit.

P: For what it’s worth, I think you would make a lovely sheriff, deputy.

B: I believe that myself. But this old man over here won’t rest until he’s in his grave.

R: Quit complainin’. You got a pension, don’t ya? That’s all a man needs.

P: So you’re saying that dedication to your job only represents a dollar figure?

R: Not mine, his.

B: What do you take me for? I spend long hours putting up with your shit for a paycheck? Maybe you’re right. I quit.

Can you wait just a minute?

I have to sprain my ankle
before the swimming coach finds out
I had fake school spirit in the tryout.

I really don’t give a damn if
the Bobcats win or lose, we’re
all a bunch of wet cats anyway.

Sure, I can swim. Better than the rest
of those paddling clowns. I’ll be out
at the lake if I really want to enjoy my time
in the water. Medals don’t float.