He's an overzealous eudaemon, his head a crooked cross. His halo brushes my brow now and then like bants that are somehow simultaneously too long and too short.
WHAT IF IT OFFENDS GOD?
The corners of his four mouths curl
up
Two of them have eyes between their tarnished teeth. Oblong pupils sit on the tip of his tongues as he perches in the cradle of my neck's curve.
THEY'LL BUTCHER US
I lift the page a little, so he can peer at it, proudly proclaiming,
"It's not blank"
His left mouth blinks, then his left, then he breathes flaming hundred-dollar bills, the smoke searing my fingers.
BUT WILL IT MAKE MONEY?
"At least I made it"
WASTE OF TIME, GONNA AMOUNT TO NOTHING -
I flick him in his face, and he almost falls off my clavicle with a cry that reminds me of a bleating lamb.
"You'd be nothing if it weren't for me, so watch it"
The corners of his four mouths curl
down
"Do you want to try?"
He tentatively takes my pen between his teeth. After a while, he lifts the page a little, so I can peer at it.
IT'S BAD
"Just because it's bad doesn't mean it can't be good"
...I'LL WORK ON IT.
About the Creator
Wen Xiaosheng
I'm a mad scientist - I mean, film critic and aspiring author who enjoys experimenting with multiple genres. If a vial of villains, a pinch of psychology, and a sprinkle of social commentary sound like your cup of tea, give me a shot.
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