A Very Short Story I Wrote While Drunk

Geoffrey Karmatootatoo was a simple man. He liked eggs and fucking his wife. There were few things in life which made him feel anything. He spent many years experimenting with drugs, hoping to find a strong feeling. He fell in love, and that was the strongest thing he had ever felt, but it still wasn’t what he was looking for. At thirty-four, he came to understand himself, and ended his search for that deep feeling. He accepted himself as he was.

So, Geoffrey got up every morning and made himself three eggs. The eggs didn’t make him feel anything at all, but he enjoyed them for that. He knew, no matter what, eggs could never make him happy, nor could they make him sad. He also knew the eggs themselves could neither feel happy nor sad. He understood them, and they understood him.

Geoffrey went to work like most people. His wife worked some times, but not often. When Geoffrey got home from work, he would take his shoes off and lay down on the bed. Geoffrey’s wife was a very sexual woman. Most days, she would sit on his lap. Some days, she would sit on his face. Geoffrey particularly liked those days. There were seldom days where Geoffrey and Patricia didn’t have sexual intercourse.

Advertisements

12 Comments

  1. For some reason I want to know what you were drinking when you wrote this. 😀
    And yes, eggs are very understanding. They are the most understand food of all the foods in all the food groups (with the exception, perhaps, of black fungus).
    Neat story.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s