Things Boys Do
The puppet show hall is crowded tonight. It seems all of the people on H-Earth have gathered in that small place and maybe it is true too. There are just 356 of us left now. The plague has made us weak. And small.
Grandma often talks about a movie where everyone is small, but Grandma lies a lot.
Tonight’s puppet show is also an adaptation of an Earth movie about Blue people and a lot of colorful things. Like the colors I see every time I take the drugs sold by the monkey on the corner of my street.
I feel her hand squeeze my hand as an emotional moment is played out on the stage. Her hand is soft and it makes me want to do things to her.
I control myself.
Once the show is over and we are out of the hall, which is nothing but a big plastic box, we stand outside looking for a ride home.
Look at this, I tell her. I put my finger to my temple and tap into The Grid. There is an eagle above us and I order it down. It glides in front of us, spreads its majestic wings and opens its beak at me. I throw a tinny piece of meat in its beak and we climb aboard the eagle.
I can tell she is impressed as the eagle takes flight.
We’ll do things.
(Nothingman writes short stories at A Story A Day and poems at Poetry. )