Contributor: Antoine Bargel
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“I like my character,” said the blind man to a can of beans, “after seventy-two years I still don’t own a pair of pants.”
“I’m over here,” I said with just a bit of scorn in my tone. I wasn’t going to take any of the usual bullshit. That old refrain about being a free spirit, when one owes to society more than their miserable existence is ever capable of producing, brings a taste of ashes to my mouth.
“Why don’t you save us the trouble and take your own life? I have needles or pills, as you’d prefer, in my briefcase.”
The blind man still hadn’t measured the severity of his situation. Rather than heed the absolute intent of my speech, he elected to attempt a comical exit:
“Robert, don’t speak like this to your old man. You know it makes me feel queasy. Make me a banana milkshake.”
Such ridiculous tricks...
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Author:
Antoine Bargel
