Welcome to Muggo Shorts. These aren’t like the other stories I write. These are quips, thoughts, ideas…whatever. But they’re short. There’s no moral. It’s just something that struck me and I decided to write it down. Consider these to be poems. Hey, I’m a poet now! Enjoy.
The words stream through the early morning air and into my eardrums like wine through an aerator.
“Left leg!!” she screams in pain.
I reflexively sit up, my brain struggling to make sense of what is happening. The information slowly starts coming together. It’s dark, and I am in bed. Allison is next to me, cursing. She is pregnant, I remember, and she’s been having leg cramps. I blindly reach and find a calf to start halfheartedly massaging.
“No, no, no! LEFT leg, honey, please!!” she pleads.
Damn. It was a 50/50 shot and I came up on the wrong side. I quickly adjust to the correct leg and immediately feel the balled up muscle refusing to relent. I dig my thumbs into the spasming muscle and groggily wonder what time it is. A quick glance at the clock reveals that it’s 3:33am. The symmetry of the time, in that moment, really pisses me off. ♦