I stumbled ultra-drunk en route to the car I lived in. This sojourn made after nightlife shuttered. After I passed a group of ladies and heard one say she has all the bruises of sex but isn’t having any. I thought of times I kneeled drunk in dirt, scraped my skin, accrued the same sexless signs as her.

On the streets I sorted through boxes atop a trash can to find one with half a doughy pizza. I snapped it up then fed it to gut to soak fermented swill. As I walked beside the river, grub gold in hand, I thought of a goose the night before. One who pecked my leg. An unprovoked attack though perhaps I passed too close.

Now I slurred to self that upon sight I’d grab his neck and end him. Kick corpse to shallows. I knew I wouldn’t do it but still sated self by giving free reign to fantasy. It didn’t matter. The coward was nowhere in sight. My mortal enemy now but an absence. Instead I whipped a scooter over the river rail but upon its splash felt bad. Such a stupid thing to do. I hated them but never litter.

I hopped the fence to step to water. Shoes turned wet and muddy. Buds off a tree stickered to back. I heaved the soaked scooter to land. Tromped to car then ducked to trunk. Peeled wet clothes as best I could, my brain’s marching orders disrupted by an overdose of swill.

The next morning I woke damp and adorned in flora. It took most of the day to remember why. I felt sick and swore off spirits, knowing the promise of those words possessed little power.

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5 thoughts on “Goosed

  1. If anyone is reading this via the mobile WordPress Reader (browser or app) could you tell me how the formatting appears? For me all of the paragraph spacing is gone so it’s all one big jumble. But in going directly to my site on a browser (both mobile and laptop) it appears normal. Just wanna ensure it’s readable for you guys 🙏🙏🙏


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