Mo’ Mummies, Mo’ Problems Pt. 3

 

III.

“What’s wrong with that?” Sam said as soon as I finished explaining my day to him. “This town could use a good vocal group. You know that as well as I do.”

“Got the car back, thanks for borrowing it.” He added.

Sam always said that whenever I borrowed his car and had to go pick it up himself. I used to reply by saying “Thanks for letting me borrow it. Sorry you had to go get it.” then he’d shake his head at me and change the subject. Eventually, I just started saying “You’re welcome.” that works out better for the both of us.

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Mo’ Mummies Mo’ problems Pt. 2

 

Part II

My head was singing a familiar song. It was in the key of “A” minor concussion. The song was terrible.

From the sound of the tune I couldn’t be not sure if I had been black jacked, pistol whipped or if I just simply succumbed to the foul smell of the foul smelling man. It read a mystery to me, one I feared I would not have the pleasure to solve.

I gradually became reacquainted with my surroundings and found myself not where I left my me. All my metaphors were as scrambled as fried eggs.

I was in a dark room, lit by a naked, inept and shameless light bulb which dangled languidly above my head with no regard for my feelings. Shadows sauntered and loped both though my mind and across the walls. That was to be expected.

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Mo’ Mummies Mo’ Problems Pt. 1

 

Part I

It was looking bad. I didn’t like this at all.

What was I going to do?

I think both my thumbs were left thumbs.

Again.

There was no way to be sure. Not this time of morning. Curse my recently uncursed luck. Wanda, my witch doctor, was practically paying her mortgage unhexing me. As long as I still had one thumb on each hand did it matter?

Maybe they were both right thumbs? Who had the right to say? I’m not an armchair thumbologist on my best day, let alone a professional one on a work day.

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