I paused as I approached my front door. There was a sound from inside my apartment that stopped me in my tracks.
There is a laughing woman in there, I thought. This should be interesting.
The laughter ceased as I put my key in the lock. I heard a second, muffled voice utter a single syllable. Uh?
I walked in and found my imaginary friend, Fancy, in my kitchen. She was shoving something into the trashcan and looked a bit flustered.
" Hey", I said, "you still have a key? Remind me to change the locks. What's in the trash?"
"Oh! Hi! Nothing!"
"Right." I removed a pizza container from atop the trashbin and saw what it concealed.
"Fancy, why is there a box of arsenic in my trashcan? Are you trying to poison me?"
She stammered and her reply was interrupted by a quiet voice from the other room.
"No", it spoke, "the poison was my idea. I thought it would be a quaint touch."
It was my metaphorical cousin Dee. Dee is invisible and no one is really sure what sex Dee is. It's sort of a moot point anyway...it's hard to imagine anyone getting horny with Dee around. Dee has a sort of natural downer effect, curbing all the earthly appetites of anyone in the vicinity. I have had to force myself to eat during Dee's visit, and sex hasn't exactly been on my "to-do" list lately. I want to sleep, but can't. All the natural urges are capsized and corrupted by Dee's presence.
"Quaint? You thought poisoning me would be quaint? Are you psychotic?"
"Yes", said Dee.
"I sifted the rat poison out of your oatmeal", chimed Fancy as she held up my flour sifter," it's safe now!"
She looked guilty. Guilty?
"Hey", I asked, "what else are you two up too besides plotting to murder me? "
"Hrrmm", mumbled Dee.
"Um, er", started Fancy, " we were gonna tell you, just as soon as we were done poisoning you. I mean not poisoning you. Anyway, Dee and I sort of hit it off, if you know what I mean, and one thing led to another..."
"We want to get married", interjected Dee.
"Married? Is that even possible?"
"Not in this state", replied Dee.
"Oh. Yeah, that sucks. It'll be a long time before Virginia changes that law...hey, does that mean you are a w..."
"I meant not in this condition", explained Dee, "I'm supposititious."
"That you are", I agreed, looking through my invisible cousin and finding my imaginary friend.
"You want something?" , I asked her.
"Yes. I want permission. To go away."
"Permission? You don't need my permission."
"Yes, I do." I knew this was true as soon as she said it.
"Very well. Go. And make sure you take Dee with you. "
"Oh, I will. He's dreamy."
6 comments:
i want what your smokin'
Imaginary metaphors can really play head games with you. Step carefully, now...
Let me guess. One of them is a meat-eating vegetarian!
YES!!!
It's hard to say goodbye,but the time will come when you will look back and say,'Hey!..That bitch took my Beatles White Album!'..
Dee sounds like a mix between Pat and Debbie Downer from SNL.
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