Posts Tagged ‘fat man’

Loud His voice was loud. His voice is always loud. The fat man shouted. The woman spoke softly at first. The fat man shouted again. The woman shouted back. Why? Why are you doing that? He asked her. Why do you give her food? I’ll give food to whoever I want to, the woman replied. The fat man’s voice sounded like an instrument in bad shape, one that hadn’t been fixed in a long time. One person nearby was listening to the fight. I want to. I want to go away. She didn’t mean any harm by giving me some spaghetti. She was being nice. Why can’t the fat man just shut up?

November 10, 2016
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La Momia Revised

October 8, 2016

La Momia, Revised

She held the bath stuff in her arms—the bar of soap, the small towel, the comb. Her slippers were next to her bare feet. She had seen the fat man go into the bathroom, his pink cotton robe covering what it could of his body. He wasn’t coming out. She was tired. All she wanted was to wash off the day’s dirt and grime off of her. The door opened and the fat man started to come out, one foot, two feet, one leg, two legs. Her own feet flew her to the bathroom. “La Momia,” he said. “I see that we have La Momia still here.” “La Momia? I wonder who the real mummy is around here? I am not a dummy.” she asked herself.” Is it you? Yes, it has to be you. You are the dumb one.” She closed the bathroom door quickly. From the kitchen she heard the fat man’s voice talking with the woman making dinner. “The mummy has nowhere to go.”

La Momia

October 7, 2016

La Momia

She held the bath stuff in her arms—the bar of soap, the small towel, the comb. Her slippers were next to her bare feet. She had seen the fat man go into the bathroom, his pink cotton robe covering what it could of his body. He wasn’t coming out. She was tired. All she wanted was to wash off the day’s dirt and grime off of her. The door opened and the fat man started to come out, one foot, two feet, one leg, two legs. Her own feet flew her to the bathroom. “La Momia,” he said. “I see tht we have La Momia still here.” “La Momia? I wonder who is the real mummy around here?” she asked herself.”Is it you. Yes, it has to be you.” She closed the bathroom door quickly. From the kitchen she heard the fat man’s voice talking with the woman making dinner. “ The mummy has nowhere to go.”

 

The Fumigator

August 9, 2016

The Fumigator

The fat man sat in his living room chair, waiting for the bathroom. The white cotton robe he was wearing couldn’t hide his paunch. A cat stood on her hind legs near him. “Don’t worry about it, Dahlia,” her owner told her.” Don’t let anybody scare you.” The owner sighed after she spoke. The fat man stared at the cat. She looked at the man and ran back to her room. The man got up and went inside his bedroom. When he came out he had a spray can in his hand. He said something to his live-in girlfriend in Mexican Spanish and pushed the spray button. “That’s right, go ahead and fumigate,” The cat’s owner said. “Next time I’ll return the favor.”