Sunday, April 8, 2012

Butter?


Her silence dimmed the atmosphere, the colors around her were as muted as her voice. Her calm demeanor made his anything but. Her cool stare was directed not at him, but the opposite wall. He needed to know why.

“Hey, why are you so quiet? Is this some sort of punishment? Is it my fault? Oh, ho ho, it’s always my fault, isn’t it?

Her eyes twitched at this, a sign of weakness. He raised his voice.

“Tell me. Tell me! Why must I endure this treatment?”

“Shut up! Watch the movie you antelope’s ass!” She drenched him with popcorn.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

You have to admit, it's cheaper than therapy


He had me pinned to the wall by the collar of my shirt. My left hand inched its way discreetly toward my pants pocket, and I pulled out the one thing that could save me. My lunch money.

It was only two dollars, I was used to it. The faster he left me, the better.

“What’s wrong? You seem out of it today.”

“I’m… being bullied.” I decided to be honest. He slackened his grip on my shirt. I gasped for air.

“Family troubles? Don’t worry, you can talk to me anytime.”

And he walked away with my lunch money.