Microstory Monday
The Day After My Heart Attack
Nobody talked to me at work today, which is fine. I'm used to people not knowing I exist. But now I come home at the end of the day, and there's a body in my bed. A dead body.
And he's wearing my special tiger pajamas.
Nobody talked to me at work today, which is fine. I'm used to people not knowing I exist. But now I come home at the end of the day, and there's a body in my bed. A dead body.
And he's wearing my special tiger pajamas.
posted by Dean at 8/08/2005 11:13:00 AM
2 Comments:
Damn. Just when this blog was getting good. I would have talked to you, only I'm still squeamish about the fish-eyeball thing.
Sorry to hear about your heart-attack. Any chance you might just be dreaming? Or that some high-tech beings didn't just create a super-facsimilie of your likeness, down to the special jammies? (It would be cruel on their part... but maybe they'd just want to do it to gauge your reaction).
--Mike
Hmmm...maybe I should start doing the micro stories in third person, instead of first. I've had people wonder how I got goat's blood out of my pants, too.
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