We Do For You

 “Hey, there! I don’t know if you’ve heard or not, but there’s an amazing new company that just opened up three months ago.  It’s called, We Do For You.  You are the focus of all our attention.  We care, and we want you to live the best life possible–without reverting to extremes. Call today and you can be freed from your worst habits.  Embarrassment? You won’t be anymore.  We have the will for you to climb to the highest goals ever. You only have to call us.  Our number is below.

But why We Do For You?  We know this type of technology has only been around for a few months, but let me explain.

You’re sitting on the couch or fiddling with your techie, and you can’t find the willpower to get up and exercise.  Look at your belly, all wiggly and fat. You’ve eaten so much cake that nos you look like an obtuse one.  That is when we do it for you.  With approval from our app, we cater your will to your needs.  You will huff and puff but be unable to stop unless your body tells us otherwise.  We won’t push you past your limits. We add that spark of will that you’ve been missing.  

Don’t believe us?  Try for free today. All you have to do is give us permission and get those jogging pants on.  Suit up and watch that negative in your head fall away as you conquer your world, your potential.

  Listen to this amazing real individual let it all out.  JJ sure had a positive experience.”  

“At We Do For You, I reclaimed my will to get into shape.  Look at these plump muscles.  No longer do I have to stress out about quitting.  I’ve got my game back.  Now I can enjoy playing basketball with friends, and they respect me more.”  

That’s right, and you hear all of it here.  Listen to another satisfied customer…” 

“My Name is Tina, and I enjoy having a will stronger than my own.  You know, I grew up being bullied for my weight, and I kind of gave up on it before We Do For You.  I watched my will crumble with each bite of brownie until I was in a pathetic state.  But not anymore!  I’m a hot mama now, down one hundred pounds within the year.  If you can’t push yourself, go to somebody else.”

“Now some people have said, “that’s fraud.” Why would we commit fraud on a product meant to give people a will?  So many people today give up. They don’t want to do homework for six hours.  Their minds are distracted.  Not allowed with our help because we can ease stress and help relieve all the anxiety that comes with too many problems when Dancing with the Stars is on.  With us, Dancing with the Stars can wait.  We also give children’s packages or family packages for those who are a bit too destractable.  There is no shame and no blame. We are here for you.

You can also sit through that boring recital of your child squeaking in the band. You thought that he’d be better by now, but he’s not.  For a small price of $500 dollars, you can enjoy a Stress Flow.  What is a stress flow, you may ask?  It’s when calming waves roll through your body to stop tension from building up in your muscles.  No longer will you move around, impatient about the “Fruitcake” that is at the end.  Wouldn’t it be better to relax, and at least look like you’re a good parent?

Here’s another testimonial about this wonderful, life-changing techie.” 

“Before We Do For You, I was just another lazy bum in the office, wasting company time and fiddling on social networks.  My boss fired me, and I found a new job but had the same problems.  After We Do For You, I can file and use a spreadsheet for hours on end.”

“And we have more news to share.  We can treat addicts and alcoholics alike!  All you have to do is order today.  For an extra $200 dollars, each time you taste your substance of shame, you’ll walk straight to the trashcan and get rid of that toxin.  Ask Wade.  He managed to beat his coke habit with We Do For You.  Wade?”

“We Do For You has been the bestselling anti-drug treatment I’ve ever had.  I feel relaxed giving up now.  I purchased Stress Flow, too, and my craving stopped. Thanks to the will given to me, I can’t even touch the drug.  Now I have a wife and kids.  My mom stopped by and actually talked to me after having disowned me for so long.”  

“You hear it live and with pride.  With a new will, you can do anything!  We throw your old, dead will into the trash and restore you to a state of health, wealth, and accomplishments.

Here is a happy caller on the line now.  

“Yes, is this We Do For You? I’ve been wanting to try this company and see if it’s beneficial, but I’m afraid that I will grow weary or want something I’m not allowed to have and my body will be pulled away from it.”

“I can assure you that you won’t want your old addictions popping up. Still, you will be assisted.  We wouldn’t want you to deny yourself or be unhappy.  You would go to the doctor for free and ask him or her to shut off the device, and you can go home and indulge in the lifestyle you want.  We are big into choice and lifestyle.  Remember, our will allows you to do everything. Here is another caller.”

“Hi, my name is Mark and I want to say that I think your company is —.”

“What happened, Mark, are you still there?”

“Great. I love We Do For You.”  “It’s always good to hear from a satisfied customer.  Everyone watching, throw your old will away and improve yourself today!”

When We Talk

 This is a concept that I’m working on. It’s basically a conversation that flows or is supposed to, where a couple is not actually listening when it appears they are in a way. I’m going to write a couple of these. It's 'Hills Like White Elephants' but with a different meaning and usage.

When We Talk

“What did you expect when I saw that?

It’s spreading everywhere.

Rumors are just rumors, you lie.

There’s a fifty percent chance.

I thought you were Mary?

Jesus Christ, it’s only been a year.

And you still come to this conclusion?

He said there was no other way.

I suppose you blame me.

I’ll be in the grave soon enough.

Why did you cheat on me?

I have cancer.

I’ve even considered suicide.”

You Never Know

 

You Never Know

“I’m back in school,” I say.

“That’s great, honey!” –

As if a cloud turns silver.

“Improving yourself, 

You never know…”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“Ain’t?”

 “Life.”

What do they expect?

Miracles? Tongues?

I drink fizz for lunch

In the solid world.

Thinking…

 If I had wings, 

Would I be an angel?

Angel Don't Come Round

 Angel, Don’t Come Round

Oh, angel, don’t come round,

Light like fire and bound,

Ash on the hot holy ground.

Oh, angel, don’t come round.

Oh, angel, don’t come round,

Our scream to you but sound.

Babylon and sun-gold down.

Oh, angel, don’t come round.

Oh, angel, don’t come round.

Low and with a mad hound.

Chains lost, link never found.

Oh, angel, don’t come round.

Micro Story: The Box

 

Don’t look at me like that.  I’m not a monster. I’m a salesman looking to make a profit. Same as you, I wake up every morning to the small cries of my children, feed them, and send them off to school in a big, yellow school bus with a 53 on its butt, not a common number but one that was my room number twice in college.  I know what a coincidence is.  I don’t need any refreshing.

I’m not a monster, I’m telling you.  Okay, okay, I’ll quit the appeal to you and tell you exactly what kind of business I’m in, the real meat of the matter.

I sell boxes, tiny boxes with a slip of paper inside.  Magic paper. Where did I get these boxes, you might ask?  

I went down to that city New Orleans, you know, the one that flooded a while ago.  A nice place, to be honest.  Have you been to the French Quarter?  Okay, okay, I know I’m getting off-topic.  I’ll get back to how I came to be this sort of salesman.

One of the Voodoo Queens took me into her shop, right?  She gave me a bag of these boxes, a tough bag made of leather, I think.  I grabbed a box and started to open it.  She slapped my hand hard and told me to never open a box, lest I want everyone to know my flaw.  

What flaw do I have, you ask? Well, I don’t know.  I keep the secret on top of the dresser, by the mirror, and it looks like the box holds two eyes there, gleaming at me in the way you do.  

I’m not a monster, I’m telling you.  

You want to know about the flaw and the box and what it means.  Yes, yes, I’m getting there. Have patience or don’t.  

The box holds our biggest flaw.  The woman you talk about, Sally, she bought a box from me.  I told her over and over to never open the box.  How can I help it if someone doesn’t listen.  No one can see your flaw when it is safely tucked into this box.  You might even have buried it so far in your mind that you don’t recognize it.  Sometimes silence and darkness and being a hidden creature is the biggest freedom for you or someone else. A flaw can stay contained but not when one questions, when one becomes curious, oh no.  

And that woman, well, she thought the box was cute and could be used in her Bible Study Class.  Who am I to ask questions? I do, I do, I do, but not when someone has cash. You’re the same, you know? You want money to feed those little mouths.  Nothing in life is free, right? Your flaw could be human curiosity, and it’s a killer.

You say they found the body?  Her family knows where she is then, no more mysteries. I’m becoming anxious, I can tell. My hands are shaking.

Ha ha, what was her flaw?  You want too much. You want to ask questions and stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, I know.  I know your kind and how they tie bows around boxes and give them to others at Christmas, to have the spirit of giving that everyone will see and know that Santa likes rich people more than poor people by the gifts he gives.  These boxes aren’t like that.  Everyone has a flaw, and we don’t want to see it.  People want to assume that they are better, in harmony within the moment. You can die, and fall over from a heart attack. 

Okay, okay, I’ll tell you.  Sally opened her box and found out that her biggest flaw was greed. She laughed it off, but when she went to her Bible Study group they saw her with fangs eating all of the donuts in the place, never replacing the creamer, and helping herself to charity’s money all so that she could put that pretty package under the tree with bows on it, and everyone would know how generous she was, how she cared.  

They told her to leave, you know? They tore the wrappers off as Sally cried out.  Her tongue got caught on her fangs and she screamed, running into the parking lot where a car hit her, so terrible.  The little box remained in her car, the words calling out to anyone.  

You don’t believe me, do you? You want a box, do you? You don’t believe me. You don’t know who you are or what the box can see, one made by a Voodoo queen.  Here you go, here you go, what is your biggest flaw that no one can see?  

Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a monster.

A Terrible Night With the Doctor

     The clock struck midnight.  Bree closed her eyes as the flashlight scanned her delicate body covered in wounds, a bit of gaze held back the drips of agony.  

No one truly saw them.  No one believed her, all of her words were lost in space.

The strange and unusual states of the patients at night, how they cried, how they said, “Nurse, help!” only to be stiff as a board the next day, unable to move but a waxed doll to place on machines, machines that didn’t care if they lived or died.  

The light withdrew like a phantom.  Bree wanted to grab it, to keep him back.  

Him?

Her voice choked, but she knew better than to make any noise at night.  The nurses failed to come to the aid of the patients, the screams! The screams!  Their slip-resistant shoes stopped making faint noises as they hit the floor, farther and farther away.  The keys turned and all went into the breakroom.  Bree wondered what conversations they shared.  The conspiracies grew wilder and wilder. 

Bree knew a scream might slip from her red lips.  

“You did this to yourself,” her dad told her, the last time he saw her two weeks ago.  She knew her place in the great white house had dwindled and would fade with her in a silent cemetery. Neither one of her parents could take the embarrassment of a self-harming teenager.  Those kinds of people, as her mother said when any deviation hit a person or a pack of unfortunate souls.

Well, she was that kind of person. Blood and bones go together.

A knocking sound and then a squeaking hinge greeted her ears.

She knew he would come.

Bree closed her eyes and tried to appear naturally asleep.  The man, the thing of abhorrent mystery, stood outside of her door. 

Her chest burned. Her lips trembled.  She wanted to cry but remained quiet as an exhausted dog, hoping to be too unimportant to mess around with..  

A beep came from the other side of the room and a raspy voice caused Bree’s pinky finger to move, “Who is on call tonight?” the thing asked.  

Nobody answered, just static.  The thing growled and came closer.  Bree took in slow, deep breaths.

The foul beast moved a few steps closer.  

Not me, Bree thought. Not me. 

A door opened down the hall.  Someone held keys and walked toward her.  The creature remained.  Bree felt the stare, felt the knife of her will failing futilely. 

“Oh Dr. Mite, you asked who was on call?”

“Yes, Hellen,” the being's voice still shook and quaked. Sorry, I have a bit of a cold.”  

Bree opened her twitching eyes, feeling safe and protected. She could be so silly at times.  Her friends told her not to be such a drama queen on one or more occasions.  

Open up, she commanded her mind.

Red eyes blinded her, and her body felt tense.  She shook and screamed.  Then all she could hear were the creature’s footsteps leaving the room.  

“Yes, those kinds of people,” the nurse said.

A Tear Apart

              The rocks crunch beneath my feet as gentle waves tap the shore.  My hand picks up a shell, white and black.  Once it held a muscle, and now it holds my attention. I wonder about the animal’s life, not knowing much about his type, her type. Do muscles come in male and female?  I admit to not knowing much about nature.  The trees laugh when the wind whispers this to them.

Tossing the muscle into the lake causes it to make a plop sound, small, almost indistinguishable from the noise of the animals around, of the lake in front of me, by the sky above me. 

Clouds pass by, and I think of their shapes, types of temporary constellations, I reason.  They come and go as does all life in the lake.  The fish swim underneath my gaze, a few of the braver minnows dare me to try to grab them. Their slick skin would ooze onto me faster than I could use my wits to surpass the fish’s body.  

Nature gives the world an abundance of creatures and creations, not all cute, not all fair.  I think of the giant catfish by the dam and shutter.  My grandpa told me this, and grandpa never lies.

The color of the water in the lake is tinged with green algae, mud, and other elements of mystery, stirred in a pot akin to a witch’s brew.  After I walk a few feet out to where the gars reside, I look down, unable to see much of my pale legs.  A fish here and a fish there nimble at the hair on my legs.  As a child, I’d cling to my grandpa when we swam, his legs covered with freckles and age spots.  He laughed with his small blue eyes, a chunk of ear missing due to cancer, and the whitest teeth an older person could hold, totally fake, of course.   

My grandpa passed in 2012 after a long life blessed with friends and family.  Up until the very end of his life, he could surpass me at arm wrestling.  I said I was going to beat him one day when he wrinkled like a tree’s bark and grew feeble.  I still lost.  This caused him great joy along with grandma.  As he lay on his deathbed, he told everyone what a wonderful wife he found and how they stayed together through all trials and troubles without fighting and fussing, carrying on, or being selfish.  My grandpa and grandma helped as many people as they could, always thinking of others before themselves.  

I look into the lake and see a rippled face go up and down.  Their faces don’t live in mine, as my father and his brother were adopted.  I feel the love of my grandparents in my heart, which rings truer than a false impression of love.

A fish jumps out of the water ahead of me, I turn my gaze and only see a ripple in the water.  I glance down at my arms, sunburned, and head up the hill by my apartment complex for some aloe.  

Released from my memory, I walk father and father away from the pond, sad and feeling lost in the present.  I cry a green, murky tear, reminding me of what is part of me, forever, I will love.

Resident Residue

The residents of Lovely Glory were called to a meeting on a calm spring afternoon. Apparently, someone ate a cake intended for everyone, or so said a few of them, envious of the thief.  The sun agreed in the sky behind the window.  

“Who ate the entire cake?” The manager, Mendy asked with her loud, strong

voice that could shake any continent to dust.

All eight of the residents looked around at each other, some angry because they wouldn’t get cake since someone took the entire, delicious dessert.  

A voice perked up from the corner of the room, “I’m diabetic.  If I ate the cake my 

blood sugar would have spiked to Hell and back,” said Melly with her perfect curls and youthful make-up.  She planned to take a walk in the autumn afternoon.  Melly kept her room straight and clean.  Mendy already knew she was innocent.  

The rest of the residents looked at each other with wrinkles and shaky bones.  

“Wait just a minute,” said Ben, “I have an alibi as well.  I went to the hospital last night.”  

“I know who it is,” said Janet. 

“Nobody likes a tattle tale,” said Ralf.  

“It’s not always about you,” Janet ranted.  She had missed an inch of her hair dye.

“It was me,” said Ralf.

“No, it wasn’t,” said Janet.

“Who do you think it was?” Ralf asked. 

“It was Sarah.  She snuck into the kitchen last night. She came later with a 

rectangular obect.

“It wasn’t me,” said Sarah, “I was carrying a TV dinner.”

“It was me. I’m telling you,” said Ralf.  

“Ralf!” They all yelled, used to his cries for attention.

“Okay, Ralf, why did you do it?” Mendy asked.

“Because life is like that.  Whoever takes the cake, wins the race.”

“And where are you going in life?” Janet sighed.  

“All the way until the end before you suckers!”

Most of the residents cocked their heads to the side. 

“Oh, you old folks, how can you not know that I’m going to heaven?”

“Because the devil doesn’t want you,” said Janet.

Everyone laughed. 

The Gray of the Oak

In the window, sees the oak,

A sturdy family same:

Flowers, and a moss coat,

Love did always bring.

Together, we love beyond

This night, oh, night’s mourn,

What the stars rest upon.

Hurry, after you are born…

…To chase love so rare. 

The branches of the tree

Grow beyond all compare

To gaze upon the family.

Silver love like the oak

Stays forever in our minds.

Strong arms never broke–

Now all Heaven’s time.

 

The Tooth Fairy

 

Alma jumped on the trampoline with her younger brother, Zack.  Zack tried to get his little, blond-haired sister to hit the net around the giant, black toy.   

“I’m going to show you!” Zack said. 

“Well, guess what?” Alma said.  “Girls rule and boys drool.”  

“I do not drool,” Zack said with his young, 9-year-old emotions.  

“I’m sorry, Zack, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,’ Alma said.  

“I think both boys and girls drool.”  Alma sat down while her brother jumped a bit and then joined her.  

Alma drooled out of the corners of her mouth. Zack, thinking it was all fun and games, did, too.  They started to spit on each other and onto the trampoline.  Their hands went into the slime and they covered each other in it.  

Zack jumped up quickly to scare his sister, but the physics ruling the day caused Alma to fling forward.

Both of them screamed as they collided, knocking teeth out of both of them.

“KIDS?!” Their mother, Sue, came running.  She saw the blood and spit.

She unzipped the netting and grabbed Alma first.  

“We knocked our teeth out,” Zack said, blood pouring out.  “This isn’t fun spit.”  

“What did I tell you about horsing around? I’m taking the trampoline down.”

“NO!” The kids said. Sadly, desire doesn’t overrule a parent.  

After a few hours at the dentist, the situation ended happily.

“Did you know that you two are going to be rich tonight?” The doctor said, a slight question.  

“Nah,” said Zack.  

“You lost two, Zack, and Alma lost four.  The Tooth Fairy will come and visit you and pay for your teeth.”  The doctor’s perfect smile widened unnaturally. 

“That stuff is for kids to believe in,” said Alma.

“The Tooth Fairy and I are brothers.  I give him so many, from adults’ too, and in turn, he helps keep the lights on in the place and mother happy. Plus, I’m wanting to go to Mexico to visit some friends with him.”  

The situation made Alma feel uneasy with her strong intuition.  

Later that night, the two went to bed and put their teeth under the pillow. Their mother and father didn’t know, and believed that the dentist had merely thrown them away. 

At midnight, the clock boasted, both Alma and Zack heard a knocking at the window.  Outside, a short man with wild red hair stood, looking at them.  He held up a sign that said, “Teeth for Cold Cash.”  

“Should we?” Alma asked Zack. 

“I don’t think so.”

“I want a Barbie Doll,” Alma said.  

“I don’t want cash from him, looks shady.”

Alma went back to her bed and grabbed the tiny, white teeth.  Her blond hair was accented by the flashes of lightning outside. 

“You don’t have to, but Pretty Princess in Pink is mine.”  Alma opened the window, each drop of water could tell on her. 

“Okay, sir, what are we talking for these here teeth?” Alma asked.

“Why, that is worth twenty dollars, my friend.”

Alma gave the teeth to him.  The tooth fairy grabbed them greedily.  An old man, perhaps a midget but a wee scary, glowing purple eyes.

Alma took the money and saw Zack. He’d gone back to his bed and grabbed his teeth. 

“Ah, and ten for you, mister,” the Tooth Fairy said.

As Alma started to shut the window, the Tooth Fairy put his hand in the way.  

“Mr. Tooth Fairy, you have to go now. I don’t have any more teeth ready to give you.” 

“Oh, I know, but my brother needs a small favor. You see, he’s run out of teeth to give to mother, and she’s dreadfully hungry.”

“We gave you our teeth, now scram.”

“That’s no way to speak to the Tooth Fairy.  BROTHER!”

The closet door shook and a light outlined the door.  An old man stepped out.  It was. It was. 

THE BOOGEYMAN! 

“These greedy children are so rude, brother, and, and, they have cavities.  They don’t listen to their parents like good little boys and girls.”  

“Ah, they don’t deserve to have their teeth, though mother does tell me the 

strawberries go well with cavities, and the gums are usually sweeter. 

Both Zack and Alma tried to scream as their teeth were pulled out. Pluck, Pluck, Pluck.

I love you, mommy! The boogeyman thought. She couldn’t wait to give her such a wonderful treat.

“We’ll take your tongues, too, so that you don’t cry out anymore, spoiled brats.  Uncle Bigfoot loves tongues, and he has such a nice family.”  

Both Alma and Zack were rushed to the emergency room and taken back immediately for surgery, tears running down their faces as the anesthetic caused them to fall into an unconscious state.  

When they woke up, all they could do was cry.  

 

 

Ring Around the Rosy: We All Fall Dead

 

 

Another ten-hour shift Daisy thought to herself.  She pulled a plate out of the dishwasher. They piled in as fast as she could catch them, boring, boring, white dishes. Some had chips, some were stained.  The cleaning solution burned Daisy’s eyes.

She’d had plans to see her boyfriend after the shift, but she hardly wanted to. He neglected every need but sex.  Sex kept her going, to feel his hatred and release at the same time.

She formed the cliche lines in her mind, it’s my fault.  I should know better. Rolling around on the mattress in the mating ritual allowed her to pump it all out. 

No matter how many times she tried to push the lies into her mind, they fell like emotional abstractions craving release inside of her.  

“I need an order of chicken to go, Daisy,” the manager said.  An old woman, past her prime and bleeding for money, made her appearance even duller.  She wore the cheap, green uniform and apron, “Welcome to Dil Bo, the Finest Diner this Way.” Amber had the badge of manager, too, she didn’t care anymore.  It could have said, “The best Dildos You’ve Ever Had.” 

There is a certain point where the human reason falls to animal instincts, to the comforts of the flesh, to the madness of pain, and absolution with a chainsaw with diamonds.  Well, Daisy hadn’t gone that far.

Amber called in more orders. The busy place was full of smelly human feces and urine.  They put the air conditioning on full blast, but back in the kitchen and out in the main part of the diner, the bodies warmed the area beyond tolerance.  

The customers chomped and spit, licked and sucked at food, much like flies.  Daisy tried to cut herself off from these thoughts, to keep the peace in her mind.

Daisy got into her car and began the drive home along the ocean. She enjoyed this, her little time to herself before being absorbed into the human world again. She wanted to be free in the ocean forever, to let the creatures spin around, to not know if she’d live or die, but she’d be a part of the place, down there where the sharks swam, down where the mercury-poisoned fish struggled without madness but injury, not sentient. She’d absorb them all and become the ocean.  

Grandiose thinking, she told herself.  She went in and out of depression and manias, didn’t have the pills to cure her, to make her one of them, the norms.  She found humans boring and useless.  Humans sleep, fuck, dance, and sing, totally unaware if there’s anything after beyond that.

Sure, Idle children think of the greater worlds in space.  Like ice cream melting, this becomes a problem where they look down at the asphalt turning the ice cream to gross blobs of cum to look down on. 

Dreams, where did they get anyone? People said they followed their passions, that they believed in themselves, and that they knew they were created for great things.  

I’m certainly not a dreamer, Daisy said to herself.  I’m a disposable machine eating coins for someone else.  I shit them out as fast as they’re put in me.

Have a nice day.

I wonder, she thought, if I should stop for a minute and walk along the ocean.  

Daisy exited her car and began to walk toward the water.  It seemed strange to her, but the water reached for her, a tempting muse of soft nature, floating ions, fresh air.  

I’ll think like a child, she told herself. I’m at the beach and looking up at the stars with my father.  They move, and he points them out, the clever celestial sphere.

Our ancestors, he would explain, started their journey by learning from hardship and pain, being lost and found, losing limbs and life.  

He’d lost his due to alcohol.

“And now it’s nothing,” Daisy said aloud as she strolled.  A man appeared.  

“Sorry, miss,” he said.  His blue eyes and blonde hair were perfect somehow 

along with his tanned body.  

“It’s okay,” Daisy said. She gazed out into the ocean, to its awe and yet calmness that day.

“The best jewels are the ones that glitter and aren’t gold.” Then the man met Daisy’s eyes, which were almost yellow and green, an unusual mix, or so people told her.  

“I guess.  I find the sun turns our eyes into Midas,” Daisy said. She imagined all the gold around the man, all that he touched. 

“Do you think the sun makes us blind, to fool’s gold?”

“You’re quite the philosopher. Would you like to have lunch at my beach house?”  He inquired.  

“Well, I guess when I know your name,” Daisy said.

“It’s Jack.”

“I’m Daisy.” 

“Ah, are you a fan of Fitzgerald?” Jack asked.  Daisy didn’t know why but she felt warned by the name. She felt she had betrayed her boyfriend.  Was he her boyfriend? He treated her like dirt.  

I guess I’ve just broken up, she thought.  

“So, I own this restaurant here. Where did you say you worked?” Jack asked Daisy after a few sips of premium coffee.  

“I didn’t say.  I work at the diner.  I write poetry for the invisible masses in my spare time.”

“I like your wit,” Jack said. “I’ll be back.”

A few people went into the beach restaurant and property.  One guy sat next to Daisy.

“You know, you might want to watch out,” he said, “Jack is not a gentleman.”

“He seems nice enough,” said Daisy.

“How old are you? My name is Mike, by the way.”  

“I’m twenty-two.”

“Young and dumb,” he returned.  

“Well, thank you for the compliment,” Daisy said. 

“I think you’d better follow my advice and leave,” Mike said.  His arms were tan 

and his eyes shined green with broken vessels.

“Okay, what is he going to do, reject and ground me?” Daisy asked. She moved a strand of her long, blonde hair back. She laughed a bit.

“After he’s through with you, if you’re still alive, you’ll know what I mean.  Get out of here, girl,” he said. 

Suddenly, Jack appeared with his bright blue eyes and perfect complexion.  His arms were tan and rounded with rigids and muscles.  His smile with perfect teeth.  

“Are you trying to steal my guest, Mike?”

“You know I wouldn’t do that, Jack,” he said back.  

“Of course, you wouldn’t.  Would you like seconds?”  Jack asked.  His fingers tamed a curl on the side of his head.  

“No thanks, Jack.  I don’t need anything sloppy before work.”  Mike got up and got onto a four-wheeler where he sped off shaking his head.  

“I haven’t had a girl look into my eyes as you did. You seem confident.  Would you mind doing a little chore for me?”  

“Okay,” said Daisy.

“Can you deliver this letter off to the post office?  It’s about a five-minute drive. I’m sure I can trust you.  You’re that kind of girl.” He smiled.

Daisy blushed.

The drive to the post office took her thirty minutes. She delivered the letter and returned to the beach house and bar next to it.  The atmosphere annoyed her with a screaming sun.

She contemplated the future.  I mean, what were the odds that some rich, hot guy would like her.  Her mother always told her to bag a good guy as fast as possible.  

She walked into the bar and ordered some soda water.  It fizzed with bubbles exploding.

Jack came back. This time he was in a suit.  

“Ah, you’re back so soon,” he said.  “I have another errand, and this will be the last one, promise.”

“Okay,” she said as before.  

“I need to make some orders at the hardwood store, just some screws. I’ve probably got enough loose in my head, to be honest with you.” 

Daisy went to the hardwood store and ordered the parts.  She went back to Jack’s place. 

“Daisy, thank you so much.  Would you like to go on a drive with me?  I know your boyfriend wouldn’t mind,” he said. 

“I broke up with him this morning.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”  

The jeep handled the curving roads professionally.  It zigzagged in and out of backroads and highways, inanimate and dead. 

“So, what’s a cute girl like you doing breaking up?  What are your requirements for a man?” he asked. 

“I’m not sure.  I take people as they come and then go.  I guess I like guys who take care of themselves and have ambition.”

“Like a rich guy?” 

Suddenly, Daisy felt uneasy.

“You know, I have a house one mile away now. No one is renting it today.”

His house shined with perfect furniture, floors, and accessories.  Most of the items appeared to have never been touched.  She rubbed the leather sofa. 

“If you want a good guy, you gotta bag him,” she heard her mother say.  “Don’t have too much virtue or pride. The world is too cruel for such beliefs.”  

She walked around and examined the contents in the house in depth.  Then she heard a scream from the kitchen and the sound of pans falling. 

Was that a woman or an animal screech? Daisy wondered to herself.  She moved slowly toward the kitchen.  

“If you want a good guy, you gotta bag him.”

“Daisy, can you come here for a minute?” Jack asked.

When she made it to the kitchen, she covered her mouth and froze.  A woman lay in a painted floor of blood and knives as brushes.  She wanted to run, but her legs failed her, paralyzed, and primitive due to fear.  

“You see, Daisy, you are all the same.  I take you to see my stuff and then you betray all you love, and it’s your mother’s prying voice nagging at you.  Do you even know who Bach is? Augustine? I wish you’d learn more about Darwin, so you would at least see yourself in the mirror as a rodent.”

“I, I. know.”

“Half-witted, I’m sure. “I just look up at the stars, pretty stars, pretty gems. Women...”

“Go ahead and run.  No one will believe you, and even if they do, I have connections. Would you like to be the jail bait? Why don’t you calmly, and lady-like, which is impossible, I’m sure.  walk out the door and promise to never ever come back.  That is, unless you’d like me to clean you up, put you in a nice dress here until my butler comes, whore. Ring around the rosy, ashes full of poesy, Ashes, ashes, we all fall dead.”  He laughed.

Daisy walked out of the house on the side of the road.  With no shoulder and a crooked road, it was difficult to avoid being roadkill.