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 |   Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
| Little rays of sunshine "I never drink...wine." — Dracula Break out the glasses and cut of their heads. I have a headache. I'm off to bed. We'd have much to be thankful for if you would. Now... don't spill a drop. Waste not want not. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine"   The party was getting out of hand. Melinda and Belinda were pulling each other's polyester wigs and the Count was dancing on the tables. Who had spiked their drinks? You'd think that Draqquie would be more careful what he invites to these shindigs. Last time... Hmm... I wonder. Pauletta and I made the rounds. We were attached at the hip so that was a swirling task as we faced opposite directions. No one cared. Pauletta is/was/will-forever-be a force of nature. No one got in our way. No one dared. We whispered in each others ear. Do you think? Did you see? WHAT WAS THAT! Apparently Lizzy was in a tizzy because Donnie wouldn't stop sucking on her... and she fell from the chandelier and crashed through the floor. Bats. Crazy bats. She should've just spread her wings. The party broke up just before dawn. And that's when we realized that someone hadn't turned off the grow lights in the orchid house. A little too much "sun" had driven everyone mad. Sad really. They'd be hung over until the Day of the Dead... if they lived that long. If not... We would see them then. And as Pauletta reminded me, again and again. © Kåre Enga (27.oktober.2024) ~250 words |
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