A Ballerina

Red . . . Purple . . . Yellow . . . Pink?

Yes.  Pink.  It is.

The pinkest of pink.  The pink of the twirling

ballerinas with the tight pink tights and the

light blue bonnets bouncing merrily as the ballerinas

twirl.  Twirl into the distance.  Twirl into the

yellow sunset with the purple mountains that crown

it sitting just five feet out of permanent reach.

Twirl into the land where Zebras and Bananas

walk hand in hand and eat an occasional breakfast

of peach once in a decade.  Now twirling back.

Twirling back transformed.  Ignited happy faces

changed to something that would only occur

inside of a refrigerator, with noses shaped like

car axles and wyws like liquid soap dispensers

they come.  In the darkest of grayness they

approach with butcher knivesthat gleam as only

mylar bags.  Kinves that will cut as only

shark teeth can.  Twirling back to get…

 

“…song was the latest from the Pet Shop Boys.

                Worried about graduation?!  Don’t be!  At w-click-”

 

“Come on Jim, out of bed!”

 

“Shut up!  Tryin’ to get some sleep!”

 

“School’s in half an hour Jim!  Now I order you out of this bed right now!”

 

“You don’t order me to do nuthin’.”

 

“We’ll see what your father thinks of this Jim!”

 

“Go ahead.  Tell the old man.  See if I care.”

 

 

-As you the reader can see, Jim is not a very nice boy, especially when it comes to getting up in the morning.  Well, today is going to be a big surprise for Jim.  Something is going to happen that will change his life F O R E V E R…literally.  So turn the page and…

 

E   N  J  O  Y!-

 

 

“Jim!  Don’t forget your lunch!”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Jim!  Come right home after school!”

 

“Mmmhmm.”

 

“Jim!  Close the door!”

 

“              “

 

 

-!!SLAM!!-

 

 

“Why do I always get treated like a baby?

How come they never treat me like an adult?

 

BECAUSE YOU ARE A BABY JIM.

 

Shut up!  I wasn’t thinkin’ to you!”

 

 

-!!HONK!!HONK!!-

 

 

“A car!”

 

 

“Is he okay?”

“I don’t know.  We can only hope.”

 

 

buhm buhm…buhm buhm…buhm buhm…buhm buhm…buhm-

 

 

“He’s dead.”

 

 

-And thus our sad tale of little Jim ends…

and remember, don’t forget to turn off your headlights.-

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