The Party I Never Attended
By
James Robert Smith.
An old pal came to me.
“I just want you to know,”
he said.
“I’m going to a party.
and they’re going to be there.”
“Oh,” I said.
“That’s interesting.”
In those days I still
shared
a few
mutual friends.
But not for long.
“I just wanted to tell you,”
he told me.
“Just so’s you’d know.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Is there anything you
need
to tell me. You know.
About them.”
I thought it
over
for a minute.
“Well, I can tell you
something
she’ll do.
She’ll know you’re
a writer.
She’ll get someone to loan
her
your work.
She’ll read as much of
it
as she can before
the party.”
He nodded
again.
“And she’ll
flatter you.
That’s what she does.
She’ll flatter you and make
you think that
she thinks
you are great.”
He pondered this.
“And she might
even
critique your work.
Tell you where you
went wrong.”
He seemed to
consider
this, too.
“In a small way,”
I added. “Just to let
you
know that she was paying
attention.”
“Okay,” he said.
A few days later
I
saw him
again.
“Damn,”
he said.
“You were right on the
number.
She did
everything
you said
that she’d
do.”
I shrugged,
feigning
modesty.
“What a skank,”
he said.
We both roared.
2 comments:
lol, now this one I must ponder.
Glad you liked it. I don't write this kind of thing as often as I did in years past.
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