first person

As the evening winded down went into the kitchen to pour me a nice cold drink of water. I noticed the frig. was half way open and water was leaking from it. I knew it could be no one else but Cindi. Cindi had a habit of leaving the refrigerator half way open, but never felt she was wrong. The last time she done this, I was out of town, and when I came back the milk had spoiled. She didn’t think it was a big deal and offered to buy me some more. She may have brought me another gallon of milk, but the point of the matter was she was careless.

So I'm driving along, fresh out from a long day at work. It was just one of those days you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy, or maybe you would.

Anyway, I'm driving home, but there ain't no real reason to go there. I share my apartment with myself, and the though of cooking something for dinner isn't really appealing to me. It's Friday and come to think of it, I'm not really hungry, but thirsty. So I figure I'll stop at my favorite spot for a beer or two or three.

“You look great, Kerry, don’t be so hard on yours,” I tell my friend Kerry who is eight months pregnant.

“I’m a fucking cow! That’s why he ignores me. All he sees is how I used to be thin and I blew up into this,” Kerry says wiping tears that are running her makeup.

Warning: Short inflation fiction with anthro-themes. So if reading it brings you out in spots don’t blame me. Blame Seritaph instead, who gave me the idea for this one.