“How’ve you fared in these interesting times?”
“Oh, I feel like Miss Havisham in her rotting wedding dress, sleeping all day and at night
opening and closing all the doors, over, over, and over.”
“The moldy cake rotting on the table adds to the cold atmosphere and musty odor.”
“I so look forward to the night as the darkness soothes.”
“Oh, so you can putter around on all fours under the house with a flashlight?”
“Yes, seeking the company of a new nest of black widow spiders or baby copperheads.”
“Maybe you could frighten them into expressing their poisonous glands.”
“Oh, how exciting that would be to finally see a small red bite painfully swell into gangrene with the red streaks stretching from limbs to heart. Soon, they would rot to black and fall off onto the floor.”
©2020 el gallo sabio All rights reserved.
This was written by el gallo sabio, a mochilero who spends his days in an underground marijuana club in Barcelona where he consumes copious amounts of Pilar, a Venezuelan cerveza, to charge the creative ions in his bones.