Money’s Destiny

 

 

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A twenty-pound note and an American Express card are getting all philosophical while left over the night table.

– “You are really lucky, says the note to the card. You’ve got a nice life. You get to see great new places and you’re value is unlimited. I’m just caught inside the human mainstream of Need vs. Temptation.

– I’m not sure I get what you mean, Blue Queen…

-Well, put it this way. I go round in circles.  I pay a KFC dinner, then am used to buy pesticides with, stuffed in the pockets of Dictators, then thrown onto a casino table where they swear at me and all of my sisters, and before I realise it I’m back in a KFC till.

– That’s not so bad.

Only when I get the chance to be used to purchase perfume or a cartoon film it might get slightly exciting, but other than that I don’t even get to see any daylight, find a boyfriend coin, and everything they use me for is outraging.

” If only they could finance a rocket with my help and discover alien life or some’ink, I’d get a great buzzy feeling…

– Come on, stop whining! Look at myself. I’m owned by an egocentric, impotent, boring businessman who only needs me to show off around. He even lets the edge of me show out a little to proove a point in front of the ladies.

” I can’t stand the idiot. Sometimes I block my own function for a few seconds just to embarrass him. He’s a waste of drinking water. You see, so what if I am loaded, I’m just used for petty purposes and it brakes my heart.

“I often dream that a cool gangster comes and steals me off this jerk and then I get my last few hours of hilarious Jokes cracking with the bad guys- who are actually way more noble in heart than this jerk who carries me on him like a war trophy.

– I see. Maybe you’re right! But give us some advice, Gold Prince- what can I do to change my miserable routine?

– Easy! Just let yourself drop on the floor somewhere busy and cosmopolitan. You will be frightened at first, but it could change your Destiny. Then we will not be having these chats anymore. You might be picked up by a groovy mechanic who plays reggae and flies to the Caribbean, then tip a happy mother of twelve, Blue Queen.

“But the important bit lies here- before you let yourself drop into the unknown, take a look back and make a lasting picture of all the happy memories you’ve had- you certainly should have many- and not be scared.

– Yeah! I’ll do that!

– But wait. Look at the jerk. He’s snoring with his Armani spectacles on. Now that cryptocurrency has emerged and we are thus endangered species, bear in mind that you have a chance of a very prolonged life in the distant future within collector’s treasuries or in a museum, so give it a chance and bet on survival.

-Yes you’re saying all this, so why don’t you just let yourself drop out of his wallet next chance you get?

– Well. That’s because of my nature. I got comfortable with Hating someone to the gut all the time, so I am staying here til the day I expire….”

The End

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The Bogeywoman

20180130_073106They call me Milly and they say I’ve got Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. But that’s all bull shit.

The Bogeywoman often chases me in my nightmares because I am a Genius. Then in the morning I pick up a pencil and stir-fry my Pain into Beauty. Blimin’ beautiful Art I can make. When I look back at my Drawings it freaks me out- “Did I make that?”

 

But when  the Bogeywoman shows up in my nightmares, I am paralysed. My flat turns messy and the cigarettes actually smoke themselves on my lips, one after the other, and I can’t find my pencil. And then when I go out, those Evil people attack me with their eyes, so I have to look for the toilet.

 

But there are no toilets left in London. And I get thirsty.

 

So I get two cans of Coke. Lovely, icy cans of Coke. I keep one of them to leave by my bedside, then shake it before I sleep it and blow it up in the middle of the night on the Bogeywoman’s face.

Look! ACharity Shop. What a nice old Violin in the window. The Coke tastes great. It’s the Real Thing.

 

“You’re not coming again tonight dirty Bogeywoman cos I’m gonna place pins on the bridge you always cross to come get me”. The Lady in the Charity Shop looks at me with chocolate in her eyes. She hands me the Wedding Dress I want to buy.  I show her pictures of my Art on my phone. She is shocked at the Beauty and the chocolate starts dribbling from her eyes.

 

“This is so good.”

So I search in all of my pockets and give her all the cigarette budget money for the week. “The chocolate was worth it”. I think to myself “Cigarettes will have to come down raining from the clouds.”

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Outside the cigarette shop there’s an addict smoking, and he goes and asks me for a cigarette! Sword blades in his eyes. I pretend to answer a call. He’s gone.

 

The cool coffee shop is open and I manage to sneak my way inside, without buying anything, and I sit down.

 

I want the Pain to go on the Paper. Coffee-drinkers are curious about my drawing. It’s a woman doing her punk make-up.

 

Oh no. The fat Security guard.”You need to buy a coffee or get out of the shop”

 

“But I’m disabled”

 

“And I’m Stephen Hawking.”

 

“I’ll buy you a coffee girl!” A tattooed man steps in.

 

“The Bogeywoman is coming to chase me tonight. All night.”

 

As I drink my coffee, the pervert asks “So how many boyfriends do you have?”

 

Shit. I see the old Physics teacher’s eyes in his eyes, and I say ” I didn’t hack the exam answers.” The tattooed man is scared now and moves to another seat, nodding. I take the wedding dress out of the bag, because it’s so delicately soft, I can’t resist the urge. But it crosses my mind that the man will come asking for his coffee back, so I suddenly grab my stuff and leave.

I’m shaking the can of Coke on my way back and relish on the thought of blowing the Bogeywoman’s face.

 

Once the drawing’s finished, I post it on Instagram. The wedding dress is really tight in the chest. I need cigarettes and I’m scared of going out. The tattoo man might be there. So I recycle my dogends. The Bogeywoman hates it when I do this.

As I’m smoking in front of the mirror I accidentally kick my old, misplaced shades. Excellent! I say to myself. I’ll wear them tomorrow and nobody will look at me with Chilli in their eyes!

 

After searching among the mess and clutter and bad and good memories, I find a twenty quid note. Leaving the mess as it is, I go to the Newsagent to get cigarettes. But the guy just takes my Twenty and says he’s keeping it because I owe him thirty-five.

I show him my drawing and he agrees to hand me a pack of  cigarettes in exchange. I am so happy and I feel clever, sexy and talented. Cigarettes never tasted so good. Divine plant.

 

I fall asleep not thinking about the Bogeywoman, but luckily I had placed the Coke in the right place.

 

Alerts on Facebook wake me up. There’s Coke all over the bedsheets and floor: the Bogeywoman has visited again. “Milly! Somebody’s selling your drawing online for 900 Pounds! You better start watching what you do!”

 

I don’t care. I just want a cigarette.

 

The End.

 

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