Ash Magazine Issue 1

My Work Excuse

  By Lord Haywire

  I’m a dead fly. I have three arms and two legs.

  Sometimes when I smoke cigarettes I think that I look real cool, and sometimes I blow it out my nose holes and I say to myself. Dragon! Dragon! And

  I pretend I am a dragon, with wings that work for real, leather bat wings. I am not a dragon; I am a dead fly, whose tummy hurts real bad.

  When I went to sleep last night, I mean, before I went to sleep, I thought, I hope I don’t wake up tomorrow, because if I do then I will have to go to work, and my tummy started to hurt.

  And I didn’t, or, I mean, I did wake up, but I didn’t not wake up. And my tummy hurt a lot worse. My poor, dead tummy.

  I thought maybe my tummy hurts because I don’t like food. Because food is kind of gross and I rather just not eat because it takes money and stuff to get food. And I have to vomit on it.

  I won’t never ever eat alone in a restaurant because only sad, lonely people eat alone in restaurants, or go to the movies alone. Only sad lonely people go to movies alone. And everyone looks at me because of my missing arm, and because I am alone.

  And I am not sad or lonely, well, I am a little lonely, but not sad. And I am not, like, really lonely, because only weak dead flies are really lonely.

  If I was invited, or had a party I wouldn’t be sad or lonely, people at parties aren’t sad or lonely, they are at a party, how could they be sad or lonely? So, maybe, I should have a party and I should smoke and tell myself I am a dragon, while I blow smoke out my nose holes. Whispering to myself, I’m a dragon, a dragon, while I flapped my wings as fast as possible.

  But at parties I always am so lonely, because everyone hates me, because I am a dead fly. Maybe smelly, and I don’t know what to do, because everyone hates me. I try real hard to be friendly but everyone hates me. I don’t know why, but everything I say makes them hate me. But I don’t really mind, because I’m not really that lonely and I am not sad at all. And I am not going to have, or go to a party because I’m a dragon and I am strong and I breathe fire on people’s faces.

  I like how I am alone a lot and that I am a dragon. Not like how I like how my tummy hurts though, I don’t like that, but I kind of really do because it reminds me of nothing really, except that maybe I am a little sad, but I don’t think so.

  And when my tummy hurts so bad like this, I don’t have to go to work, so if my tummy hurts real bad like this, all the time, I can stay here, where it is warm, and there is music, and never go to work again. And no one will hate me, and I can pretend to be a dragon in my bathroom. And that I am having a party with other dragons and they are all my friends, and I can pretend that I am not lonely and I am not sad, not at all.

  I hope my tummy hurts real bad forever and ever and ever. But I would miss the people who live in my work apron; Cutter, Miss Wheel, and Tapeworm.

  I’m not a real dragon.

  I’m a dead fly.

  And I am so lonely and I am so sad.