So, it seems that I'm back in a creative mode. That could be a good thing, or bad, depending on how you feel about my fiction or poetry. Today's post of inspired madness (or something like that) features three new 100-word drabbles. I wrote one of them a couple of weeks ago, but never ended up posting it. The other two are brand-spanking-new today. Enjoy?
"THE PUDDING CLUB"
When I am old and have lost all my teeth, I will start a Pudding Club for myself and others like me – old and toothless gents who haven't yet given up on living. We will invite Bill Cosby to be the guest speaker at our opening meeting. He will, of course, decline; but it is, of course, the thought that counts. We will sit in our smoking jackets – never smoking, because it's unhealthy – eating cup after cup of Jello pudding till one by one we pass out or pass on. This is how I wish to spend my final days.
I made a movie that you'll never see. Not because it's embarrassing. Because it's depressing. You'd never forget the many wonderful characters I created (if I'd ever given you the chance to remember them). I made them likable, so you'd feel sympathetic towards them. Then one by one I killed them off in horribly violent ways. If you'd seen it, you'd have shed endless tears – "people" you'd come to know and love, wiped off the face of the earth. You'd hate me – not for creating them, but for destroying them. No, you'll never see that movie. (It was called "Life.")
Look, I get it! Believe me, I do. You don't have to explain yourself. You gotta pick the person you think is best suited for the job, and that's not me! You shouldn't feel any personal obligation towards me – I mean, I'm sure plenty of people have saved your life, right? You gotta do what you gotta do – I don't expect any special treatment. Of course, us being family can't factor into your decision. That'd be unethical! You probably have rules against that sort of thing anyway, huh? Seriously, you don't have to spell it out for me. I understand!