this morning #1136.

this morning, the screen door slid open with a screech & in strutted the king of the friggin’ world. no shirt. no shoes. no shit. he looked like some broken being that’d crawled straight up out of the everglades. he gave me the eye. gave me that look. i guess i was expected to intuit what he wanted. i could only intuit that he was getting testy about me failing to identify what he wanted. i leaned back into the couch & smiled at this petulant little manchild spiraling right before my eyes. he dragged the screen door shut in a hilarious huff, yanking it right off of its track. pure comedy gold. i’ve been told once or twice & i guess it’s sound advice: you can’t read a mindless man’s mind.