This old man. This grumpy guy I loved. Any other color but pea green for an orange, blue, brown guy. Joy oh joy when they worked side by side on his wall. Please let me help I say to the air. He wants to look, to sit and look. When I move them I shoot him through the heart. NO, he screamed, DON’T. Get Out You She Devil You. Who wants to take bloody risks, with your pants down around your ankles all the time, he said, TV and beer soaked videos is where it’s at. Nobody can see you in your house. Only those gray walls and the safety net with huge gaping holes. He knows he has fallen through. He has fallen through into the pea green. The walls, his empty gray walls, the color of bitter. A sad little man. Too many holes for me to fill. Too many complaining stories. Entertaining the sad little pinched man. Only lunch made him smile.
Neila Mezynski is a one time dancer/choreographer now painter/writer. She has fiction and poetry currently published and forthcoming in: Snow Monkey Journal, Mudluscious Word Riot, Apt, Thirteen Myna Birds,Foundling Review, Weird Year, Everyday Poets, Abandoned Towers Magazine and Breadcrumb Sins. Mezynski also writes art and music reviews for online and in print magazines.