Good Morning To You

The lotus eaters sat, lulled by the song of the river and none paid me any attention, lost in reverie. I had no cake for the dog and he stood blocking my way, promising pain and sharp teeth. I wished I was in pieces and wondered which I would give up for safe passage. Where did that sybil go? I cannot come, I cannot go on. Stuck here, paddling my feet while the girls keep me company.
"Oh my." she said. "Oh, your what?" I felt testy and cramped. Time to clear the deck and head for home. I am losing my momentum, I guess, and need to sleep. I signaled the first mate and he, in turn, yelled out into the wind.

It's always like this. I stumbled across the street for cream for the coffee while the city buzzed me and tried to take my lunch money. My strength is returning slowly but the lead in my feet is always last to go. The keyboard taunts me and in my head the swirl of unwanted melodies plays hide-and-go-seek with the killer. He's in fine form today but if I can keep him occupied I'll be safe. Sometimes I use the memories of someone else as bait but he's a faithful animal and wants no one but me. Small wonder. I trained him for this and now I regret his education, simply because he's too good at what he does.

Today, I'll be on the ladder again, trying not to think. The lotus eaters will be there and even though their harmless, sometimes I'd like to bash their brains in, if they have any at all. Better them than me.