The Literary Magazine 2020 Spring "A Future"

The tremble in his voice makes me want
to keep this going forever, the awkward smiles
when I don’t fall for his social cues get me higher
than any drug ever will. The way Marvin
scrambles to fill the too long pauses makes maniacal
cackles fire off in my brain like pirate ship
cannons. It’s only when he stands up, hand still
wrapped around his tea-cup that I fully realized
the gravity of this moment, and let a sigh slip
from my lips and fill the empty air between us.
Marvin opens his mouth once more.
“Like I said before you can’t even imagine
how thankful I am for all this,” he stammers,
trying to fit into this fake redhead role he’s made
up for himself but failing miserably to hide the
politician within. “I’ve got friends in high places
y’know, so if you ever need something please do
give me a call.”
“Noted, I’ll keep that in mind-”
“Oh well great! Alright then I’ll head off
to bed, wherever that may be for me tonight-”
“Marvin”
His fingers lose grip of the handle as
quickly as a name slips from my lips. Though
I know it’s the glass that got shattered, his eyes
make me think that the sound of cracked china
is produced somewhere within him, not along
the smooth surface of my hallway floor. The table
leg fits neatly in my arms.
“Joe” he whispers, as if finally putting
together a puzzle, a mystery he wanted to solve
long ago.
“Marvin” I respond as the wood leg finally
collides with his head.
He doesn’t even let out a scream.
The splinters stay lodged in his skull.
My arms start to hurt from the twenty-first hit.
The smiley face is all the remains of him, it’s all
I leave to remain.
The ad for the broken City metro system
remains unread. I throw my watch out of
the window and calmly follow suit.
Fauvist Landscape
Anna Benno
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