His Spandex Shorts
Hammond Clark, drifting in bare feet, clad only in
his spandex boxer shorts, took in the wreck of his kitchen.
"This tastes like nuclear waste", he thought as he nibbled on
tid-bits left over from his sister Rosie's "after the gig" party.
As lead singer for the Dire Straights she had footed
the bill for her friends and family. He knew he'd taken too
much"medicine",the pain behind his eyes was intense.
They looked like lunar craters and his mouth tasted like
Listerine soaked tissue.
Worried, he wondered why she had left the party with
that vacuum salesman. Granted, he had a nice car, but
he looked like he just stepped off a UFO..
What I need is a good night's sleep he groaned.
Plagued by insomnia he had counted every wormhole in
his ceiling a million times. How on earth was he going to
wine and dine those new clients from the convention
..and sell them on his line of spandex shorts.
Slumping in his chair, his vision blurred.. and he...........
To be continued.
For that wacky contest...
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2010
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