So Sharp

“If I was a knife I’d be sharp for you,” He told her as sweetly as he could.
“‘Sharp’ is such a general term.  Perhaps if you could be more specific; the precise angle of the blade, the type of steel used in the forging process, the particular honing method?” She replied.   She had failed to see the romance in his eyes, having always been more of a technical person.

But what does romance amount to anyway?  Empty pockets, broken hearts, and more babies than a decent man can stand for!  He tried to soften the blow with bleek thoughts about the nature of love, but his heart knew the truth.  He was a Sucker, through and through.

Shorty

It’s a mountain. Like a big rocky pile, as if something underneath it was moving around and grinding up on itself. I want a topographical map of the thing superimposed over my vision like a Cyborg. I can find all the caves and rabbit holes and I never lose my footing. I rescue dehydrated hikers. They got lost chasing the family dog that ran off chasing a rabbit, so I help them find their dog and help the dog find the rabbit.  The hikers, oh they’re so happy to have their precious pet back and it’s a storybook forest on that big rocky pile. They get naked and golden in storybook light and my cyborg vision can see every curve and intersection of body that moves on top of me.

Someone kicks me and my eyelids squint, framing Awk in a blurry oval. He grins down at my crotch, snickering at a wet-spot the two sucubi had granted me, and he moves down to the grass next to me.

“Dog day, huh Shorty.”

“Fuckin’ thirsty.” I manage to force past my throat, words all pastey and foam.