John took another step, and reached out with his
Abby reared back with the paring blade, and shouted as if she was being
attacked by a madman. “JOHN!”
“AHHHHH!” John shouted back, but Abby
didn’t have the guts to
plunge the blade, and John didn’t reach for Abby; he just reached out in her
direction. He reached out for the potato that she was holding.
“GIMME THAT!” he said, as he tore
it from her hand.
Abby quickly lowered her center of gravity and
took a defensive
posture, not knowing what John might do next. John put the potato against his
lips, and bit a chunk out of it with his teeth. He spat the chunk out onto the
“John, you are acting stupid, and crazy!”
“NO, Abby, this here is stupid, and crazy!”
John reached down and lifted his scrotum up; he
was left of the potato between his legs, and wedged it in tight. He let go of
his scrotum and his balls dropped down to where Abby couldn’t see the potato
“Dammit, John,” she said.
John squeezed his legs tight together and squatted
“Check this out, Abby, I can hop like a horny toad without dropping this
“Enough, John, stop it!”
John made two more
hops before he stood up, and pulled the potato out from between his legs. He
spun once in a circle, and when he stopped, he hurled the potato at the trash can.
He missed and the lopsided potato rolled
across the floor.
Victor Clevenger’s latest
poetry collection will be released soon from Spartan Press, and is titled Congenital
Pipe Dreams. Selected pieces of his work have appeared in
a variety of places online, and in print.
He spends his days in a Madhouse and his nights with his second ex-wife,
together they raise six children in a small town northeast of Kansas City,