Brought to you by our wonderful sponsor on Free Write Friday, Kellie Elmore!
Oh God I hate having to write. You’d think I’d like writing, being a writer, well, sort of a writer – what is a writer anyway?
Someone who writes, that’s what a writer is. Someone who says I’m a writer at dinner parties and then when people say, have you had anything published, say, oh no, not yet, I just write for a hobby, in my day job I’m an undertaker. So alright, I’m an undertaker. Who writes.
Anyway I’m sitting here biting my pen and screwing up my eyebrows and thinking how I’d rather be home repotting those roses when suddenly it comes to me, I know what I’m going to write about. I’m going to write about YOU.
Yes, YOU. Lying there, your mouth half open, your eyes gazing into the far distance, your hair a little mussed up, your toes upended, blue with the cold. How do YOU feel?
Are you happy now? You don’t look happy. Everyone traipsing past you wiping their eyes and blowing their noses, but do YOU care? No – you just lie there.
What do YOU feel about me? Here we are, just the two of us, what do you feel then? Do you like me? Do you think my wife should divorce me? Do you feel sorry for me, cuckold that I am? Do you know how I hate this job? Do you know how depressing it is? Do you have ANY IDEA!!!
You don’t, do you. But there you are, that’s the dead for you, no empathy.