Get a Job Pt 14: Same Story- Different Words


 

“Get a job!” she yells out of love and condemnation.

 

“I have a job. It just doesn’t pay.” I say.

 

Critical condition. Creation. Destruction. Distraction. Turn around.

 

Green concrete backyard gives me a moment to relax.

 

The cat cries from across the alley. I look at her and stare.

 

Orange fur spreads on the dirt. I stare.

 

“Get a job!” she yells at me in sorrowful pity.

 

“I have a job. It just doesn’t pay.” I say.

 

Gray burnt moldy coffee passes as breakfast at your lunchtime. I reheat it and smile.

 

Tired from a night of sleep. Good sleep . Bad sleep. It’s all the same.

 

Blue telephone rings. I debate answering it. It goes to voicemail.

 

I check the voicemail.

 

“Get a job.” The message says.

 

“I have a job.” I say to the recording.

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