Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

Mrs. Ed

Mrs. Ed

Neighbors, non-neighbors, neighbors of neighbors, neighborless non-neighbors, people who ain't my neighbor, people not near a neighbor of mine, neighbors far from my neighborhood, don't ya' think "nay" and "boar" relate to animals more than to where one lives? "Nay," says a horse. That's a whinny, you know. But the boar and the horse are neighbors, in stalls, adjoining one another, not far from the goats. These goats though, they're not real goats. Nah, they ain't the type of goat birthed from other goats. These are cardboard goats, goats painted to perfection on the cardboard, their heads with horns like the devil. Nah, I ain't believin' in any horn-headed evil goats painted on brown board. They ain't no neighbors of mine. "Nay," says a horse. The horse knows too. The horse says she ain't seen no goat neighbors. "They just Mr. Talking Eds," she says, "not like me. I ain't no Mr. Ed. I ain't even talkin'. You's puttin' words into my mouth when I, uh, wanted carrots." But instead of carrot she says "garrote." "You've got to mean 'carrots,'" I say. "Nay," she responds, "'garrote,' … they gonna slaughter me."


by Jennifer S. Chesler