A Question of Genre
Someone once asked if my life was a tragedy or a comedy.
We’d stopped counting drinks at that point. I was still wearing my suit, though the tie had been lost some hours before.
The pretty girls had all stumbled off – the ugly ones, too – back home or into someone’s bed, but we were uglier still: old, old men. We’d finished our game of chess and sat down for a drink with Death instead.
I have memories of nights like this, and better mornings – and pretty girls and ugly girls, sweet girls and mean girls – and the one I took home long ago and never gave back…
Tragedy or comedy? What a stupid question.
It’s not exactly in the holiday mood, I realize, but I think there’s a certain weird sweetness to it anyway (sort of?). Let me know if you agree, then click the blue guy up above to read the rest of this week’s stories. Happy Thanksgiving and a happy weekend!