The day after my
sinus surgery, I woke up to find a dog lying on my chest. “Are you worried
about me?” I rasped out.
“Not exactly,” Bae
replied.
I hadn’t actually
expected a reply.
“Dude, we need to
talk about finances. Will paying for this surgery take money from the
kibble line item on the family budget?”
“Not to worry. The
insurance covers most of it, and we can make payments on the rest.” I was
hurting and bleeding, but I felt it necessary to pet the dog because his nose
was about six inches from mine, and he was lying on my spleen.
“The rest? You know, I have wheat allergies;
I need special food.”
“Welcome to the
allergy family.”
“This is Christmas
shopping season, dude—you should be promoting your book sales, not laying there
with your face all swollen up.”
“I always kind of
hoped they’d sell themselves.”
“What? Are you on
drugs?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
Bae sniffed my face. “Yeah,
I smell them, now. Vicodin, and some kind of anti-nausea medication. Look, you
gotta get out there, man … there aren’t enough mice in the house to keep me
fed, and that rabbit always stays just outside the reach of my line. I tried to
do some promotional posts for you, but these paws aren’t made for typing.”
“Ah, that explains
the delivery of eighteen pizzas, and the lady from Romania who finds my profile
intriguing.”
“Sorry about that.
But you need help: You keep publishing in different genres, so how are you
going to build author branding?”
“But that’s the
beauty of it: If people want to buy books for themselves or for Christmas
presents, they can get it all on www.markrhunter.com:
humor, romantic comedy, short stories, non-fiction, young adult, history—it’s
all there. I’m your one stop shop for book buying.”
“Well, they’d better
buy more, or I might start eating grass in the back yard … and you know what
that means.”
“One sicko in the
house is enough. Look, word of mouth words great, here: Why don’t you tell your
friends about me during your midnight barking?”
“Dude, my friends can’t
read.”
“Story of my life.”
“You’re dreaming this
whole thing, anyway. I blame the drugs.”
And that’s when I
woke up.
But I woke up with
the dog on my chest. “Were you just speaking to me?” I asked.
Bae didn’t say
anything. But he looked hungry.
What? I'm just checking up on him. |
He's just trying to comfort you. Get well soon.
ReplyDeleteYes he is, and he's very comforting!
DeleteHe wants the attention you (should ) be getting.
ReplyDeleteTell him to get a job.
I tried that, but he's not employable. No diploma, no driver's license ...
DeleteBae's good company though.
ReplyDeleteHe is, indeed.
DeleteLoved it. That's such a beautiful dog too.
ReplyDeleteHe sure is! And very photogenic.
Delete