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So we had the usual big showdown when I went to wake her up this morning.
Again, she is not a human being in the morning. She was an evil spiteful irrational raging monster from the moment her eyes popped open, like the loch ness monster emerging from a fetid sewer.
I tried reasoning with her. She spit and hissed and cursed and threatened until i could picture myself chopping her into little pieces and setting them on fire and stomping them into obliteration. And still she raged on…
Finally I just gave up. It was like the infinite chess game, going round and round in pointless circles. Nobody wins, everybody loses.
Fuck it. Fight or flight. I chose flight.
I told her I was leaving and she could do whatever the fuck she wanted. I walked out.
I wasn’t getting off the hook so easy though. She followed me downstairs. We hit the street and she walked away and off up the street as I started the bike. Check mate. Suddenly I didnt feel so tough, knowing full well what would happen if I let her go. Shed get herself in another jam, and I’d be compelled one way or the other to pick up the pieces…
So I went after her.
When I rolled up beside her, she refused to get on the bike and just kept walking.
I complained to her, about her rancid attitudes and demonic actions, while still rolling the bike along the sidewalk.
Finally she stopped and faced me.
“Yeh Cigano, you hate it all so much you wrote the whole e’stupid book about it, hein?”
Shit. She’s right… What would I have to write about if everything with Narcisa was nice and normal and simple and easy?
A muse can be a cruel and brutal taskmaster…
And still I want to argue the point.
When will i learn the futility of fighting against that which simply is?
Narcisa simply is.
And the real problem when arguing about anything with Narcisa is that, right in the the middle of her most absurd irrational rant when you want to piss in her mouth and slam-dunk her face into the toilet and flush it, she will suddenly coldcock you with a roundhouse sucker punch of such poetic genius and perfect, unavoidable cosmic wisdom that you can only stand in awe of her infinate intuitive paranormal rationale, even as you scramble frantically to pick your teeth up off the floor with stinging broken fingers!
That’s dealing with Narcisa. Check mate. One more time. Shit.

Copyright Jonathan Shaw 2008.

NOTIFICAÇÃO: Os eventos relatados neste site são contos de ficção registrados na Biblioteca Nacional com todos os direitos autorais revertidos ao autor Jonathan Shaw. Os personagens mencionados são inteiramente fictícios. Certos eventos, personagens, lugares e relatos, foram baseados em fatos reais, porém qualquer semelhança a qualquer pessoa viva ou morta se trata de pura coincidência. As várias fotografias apresentadas se encontram com o rosto distorcido para preservar o anonimato das modelos que representam personagens fictícios.