This is another article. It’s quite short, but sometimes less is more.
Here is my last article printed in my college newspaper. Enjoy! It’s educational.
“But vanilla is boring! I want to try new things to revitalize our sex life. I haven’t felt intimate with you in such a long time. You’re never home. The connection just isn’t there, I…”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP, BITCH!!! Are you telling me I’m not good enough? HUH?!!! I don’t satisfy you, now you want to get some toys and shit!”
He pushes her into the closet. There is a loud crash, and the final silence of the slamming door. Just for kicks he grabs his hand drill and drills in a few screws. That will teach her.
He strides into the sullen kitchen, and grabs a soda out of the refrigerator. All of a sudden there is a knock at the door.
Rata-tat-tat, rata-tat-tat! For a moment he thought it was the police. They had been fighting for an hour now. He quickly pushes back the blinds and then opens the front door.
“What’s sup, man?!” It is his homeboy Brice.
And with a smile on his face he steps out, gently closing the front door behind him. A smoke break. Just what he needs. Brice always comes through with the good shit. He coughs. Laughs…as if nothing ever happened. Thanks to Brice, he had almost forgotten how terrible of a person he was. He is enjoying himself so much that he decides he will let her out as soon as Brice leaves. His longtime girlfriend had just insulted his manhood, but now he could cope much better, and hopefully coax her into that vanilla sex she is so used to. But that’s just it…he is enjoying himself too much.
Why was it so quiet? Why wasn’t she kicking down the door and threatening to call the cops like she usually does? As soon as his homeboy left he opened the closet door. There she was. Lifeless. Crumpled in a corner. Her neck twisted and contorted unrecognizably. Hm. It was really hard to hear her neck snap with the slamming of the door. He wanted to be serious, but his bloodshot eyes just twinkled as he tried not to laugh. This is only happens in the movies. Right?
He takes one last swig of his crisp, cold soda, tilting his neck almost as far back as hers. And then he takes a look at the can.
Vanilla Cream Soda.
In my dream…
we were bleeding watercolors. We were driving in a car. I think we were headed to a rave. Then, all of a sudden, my eyes poured out all the colors of the rainbow!
I looked to you, “You too?”
In the middle of your chest was a shotgun blast, but the color was not red. You were bleeding orange watercolor instead. I said, “Everyone lives their perfect paradise when they go to heaven.” Then, I saw a light.
We were dead.