We were pals, if that’s what you mean. Well, no one’s indispensable. I may as well be nice to you. I’m going to give you up. Now, that’s a fancy name for murder.
Couldn’t we be cockeyed fools for once? Let’s wear our black velvet shorts. I need some cold cuts and champagne. Baby, please stop winking. But first, goodbye.
Let us have a cutoff. And quick as the devil! Don’t put your fist to your mouth and cry. Look, all our broken parts are scattered around the room. We have to reassemble ourselves into separate robots.
Now even though we’re a couple of rats, I think we’re marvelous. I’m having a swell time. Now let me alone. Goodbye, monster. 186
Fiction, poetry, creative nonfiction, and art selected for phoebe's Spring 2018 issue.