Crime Scene by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

All things being relative
I would hardly call it a crime scene
but she gets up early the next morning
chalks out exactly where I was standing when I told her
that summer top made her look fat.
In my defense I was drunk and tired and honest
when we know the policy.
Not the best policy but the only policy:
lie.
The key to happiness.
But a car is broken into every seven minutes.
Someone shot and killed every fifteen minutes,
so let’s keep things in perspective.
Which is of course the last thing she wants to do
under the circumstances.

It is all about her
and even more about
me.
All the flowers of smelly botany
won’t fix this one.

RyanQuinnFlanagan - UltraViolet Reading
Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a happily unmarried proud father of none. His work can be found both in print and online in such joints as Your One Phone Call, Horror Sleaze Trash, and Dead Snakes. He has an affinity for dragonflies, discount tequila, and all things sarcastic.
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