19th March 2018
You know found myself a bit of time to sit at the piano, run off a few tunes, warm the fingers up, bring back that flexibility. See, age plays its part on your mortal body, can’t cheat it, and try as you might to hold it back with lotions and portions. (Got yourself some of that fancy priced snail trail elixir in a nice bottle have you, eh, reckoned it gives your appearance more of a youthful aura over the future years?) Ha-Ha think again and look closely in that mirror.
I mean imagine if you could live for ever, better make sure the meat suit you’re in can stand up to all those punishing years.
Well I jotted down a very short piece, micro fiction, is that what they call it? Well I hope you enjoy a spin on that old chestnut. I’ll let the story tell the rest.
A done deal
He’d looked like a walking corpse all wasted and yellow. Never could stand that wet afternoon face. She said he’d a tongue giving misery still making her dead mother swear. He’s below, six deep, turned face downward just in case he tries to scratch his way out.
The new love shares the lumpy matrimonial pit of a bed. Eyes all fixed and burning like, eager to paint the town red spending that newfound wealth she’s acquired. Grinning wide puts an offer forward can have whatever she wants for her bleeding soul when dead, as down payment for devilment.
The spike heel widow weighing up the offer, closed mouth pulling grotesque shapes that’ll stick if the wind changes. Spits out the peppermint as if she’s sending it into next week. Ready she is to spell out her demands. Give it me now! The whey-faced bitch shouts. I want to live forever!
entry by Valentine Heart
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