Monday, June 8, 2015

Words of Curse

            “Curse this malaise,” cried Rory. He turned off the TV and tossed the remote control to the furthest couch cushion and slowly rose to his feet. His knees cracked.

            “Curse my rickety bones,” shouted Rory. He stretched his legs out and felt the twinge of age in his joints. Cars on the street outside started honking their horns.

            “Curse this noise,” yelled Rory. He went to his window and peered out over the bustling intersection. A plane flew low overhead.

            “Curse this flightpath,” sneered Rory. He looked up to the bright blue summer sky and the winking glint of the metal airplane. A dog started barking.

            “Curse that damn dog,” swore Rory. The dog was barking at a squirrel that had climbed up a nearby tree. Rory’s cell phone buzzed and vibrated.

            “Curse all this technology,” said Rory. He checked his cell phone e-mail and had received a message about new vinyl siding at a low cost. He moved toward the right and stepped on a small pebble that had somehow found its way into Rory’s home.

            “Curse you bare feet,” exclaimed Rory. He hopped on one foot and brushed the small stone off onto the hall carpet. He checked his foot to see if he was bleeding. He caught his awkward reflection in the hallway mirror.

            “Curse you…,” stopped Rory. He pat at his growing middle aged belly. He rubbed the scruff on his chin. He ran his fingers through his too long hair. It was grayer now than before.

            “Curses,” said Rory. He hung his head until his chin touched his chest. He shuffled back toward the couch and sat. He turned the TV back on.

            “Curses,” cried Rory’s guardian angel, “I almost had him up that time! I don’t know what I gotta do to get that guy up and back into the world.”

            “Patience,” said the guardian angel’s guardian angel. “Patience and a little more stimulation. Something more than dogs barking or planes and traffic, bones creaking and pebbles left about.”

            “I’ll try,” said Rory’s guardian angel. The guardian angel’s guardian angel nodded and went about her duties.

“Cursed guardian angel, telling me what to do, phht,” mumbled Rory’s guardian angel. He turned on Earth TV and flipped through the channels. A harp played in the distance.

            “Curse those noisy harps.”

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