An angst-purging bit of flash fiction should IT come visiting, i.e., like an unwelcome salesman showing up on your doorstep, IT needs to know the sound of “I ain’t buyin’.” Maybe the cliché: “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” has something going for it. Hopefully. (Image by Opthalmologist pics)
by Odin Roark
Clouds gather fast
when everything unwanted moves in.
Under closed eyelids
fear fidgets like Fredo
in Godfather II.
You remember that?
They say my breath is rancid,
Sign I gave up to you.
No way. Screw you, IT.
Where’s my headphones.
Can IT remember old jazz riffs?
Probably not. Too young for that.
Yesterdays were good back then.
You oughta hear this new soundtrack for Whiplash.
Talk about riffs.
Know something, IT? You don’t know shit.
You weren’t even around when we walked on the moon,
or when Tiger could make me lean forward,
my Sunday TV filled with putts and drives
giving us all unstoppable pride,
the kid’s big finger in the eye of bigotry...
And way back…when my dad came home from the war. How he
made us kids remember that old Churchill guy.
“All we have to fear is fear itself.”
Bet you don’t know about that, do you?
Hell no. You and your MO...
You just strut around, attack unprotected regrets,
stress, fear, fear, and more fear,
My philosophical nurse calls all that stuff, “loneliness that slipped
through the cracks of happiness.” Good line, eh?
So… Can’t complain. Won some, lost some.
‘Cept this. Shit! You know what havin’ just a few strands of hair is like?
Clump after clump just dropping off.
And everybody wonders why I keep my eyes closed.
Even you know that. If I open my eyes, I’m liable to delude myself
into seeing me throwing snowballs back when…
Damn. Feels cold. Time really is gettin’ cold.
I’m squeezin’ my eyes shut and still you bug me. Go chase a blizzard, IT.
Should have known.
Get an AARP card, you know you’ve made the short list.
Who cares about discount this, cut-rate that.
Who’s got time to shop for Chrisake.
Your foot in my door turned into a residence, and
you’ve spread your “closer” crap all over the place.
They tell me it could metastasize.
Fuck that shit.
You ain’t sellin’ me you extended warranty. Hear that, IT?
I ain’t buyin’.
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|Reviewed by richard cederberg
|I can see how some may extrapolate various meanings from this, but I see only one. I had several family members succumb to, and then die from, cancer. The ramifications were devastating emotionally. Can't find any words other than these, Odin. This piece is like an arrow to the heart. Message received. r|
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|I have to assume, and it's a big assumption, that you mean Internet Technology. But then the last two lines, threw me, because I was thinking all the challenges I find that seniors are having with trying to interact on the computer with the Internet.
So it's a tossup, except for facing growing older and reminiscing about how things seem clearer in our youth, I didn't get the point of your story. ;-)