Nighttime. The moon claws its way over the dome of the stars. Wretched things crawl below, being born, being dead, assembling and dissolving, in moonlight as in sun. Schmutzie and Palinode relax in bed.
Schmutzie: (reading) Heh.
Palinode: Oh no.
Schmutzie: What?
Palinode: Impetigo?
Schmutzie: What?
Palinode: Are you upset over having impetigo?
Schmutzie: I don't.
Palinode: Really? Because you said 'heh' in the exact way that people say it when they realize they've got impetigo.
Schmutzie: No. You wouldn't see me if I had impetigo.
Palinode: You'd be invisible with impetigo?
Schmutzie: No, I'd be disfigured with it. And quarantined. That's why you wouldn't see me.
Palinode: So all people with impetigo are grotesque and hidden?
Schmutzie: Yes.
Palinode: Well good.
Palinode: That's for the best.
Palinode: What is impetigo?
6 comments:
Oh ha ha. Can't we have one conversation about impetigo without you sharing it with the internet?
If this is the beginning of a huge, marriage-ending fight, then just imagine the drama of being able to tell folks that it was impetigo that tore your love asunder. Man. That would be so worth it!
Ow great...now I am going to have to go to the dictionary to look this up.......
schmutzie - All conversations about impetigo and weeping sores are public property.
sir - People would give us looks of sympathy, but secretly they would think we were morons. Is there money to be made out of that situation? I'm looking to monetize my ridiculousness.
lotus07 - Impetigo: a superficial skin rash and sore from a kind of bacteria. Usually contracted by kids.
The conversation is silly and fun but that opening setting bit? Love it!
I continue to want to be part of your polygamist cult, especially because I'd get to be Schmutzie's sister wife. I might even clean out the cat box for you guys.
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