Kind of strange today, please do not mind. And please write a better story than me and send it to me.
by Dan Schwartz
I wanted to live in the land of bad decisions. In order to live in the land of bad decisions, you have to make some bad decisions.
In the shower, I held the bar of soap in my hand and slowly turned it around and around in my fingers, feeling the ivory or whatever sliding between my fingers, and I knew that this is what my life should be made of. So I went to the grocery store after I got dressed and bought every pack of soap that they had. After that, I went to the next grocery store and I did the same thing.
I kept the the bars in the bathroom, but eventually I just started throwing them anywhere I could. Over the bedroom, around the TV, under the sink, in the basement. People wouldn't come over any more because there was no place to sit. When I went out anywhere I'd always carry two bars of soap with me, just in case.
I never opened the boxes, oh no. I just liked having them there. Someone suggested the term security blanket, well, I don't know. Maybe. It was a comfort, I'll say that.
Then one night the water pipes in my house broke and the place became flooded, and the next thing I knew I was riding a wave of soap water, of discharge. I grabbed what I could and floated away. It's all gone, now. And so am I. Once you've gone somewhere like that, you can't go back. Nothing else comes close.