But I did saw it, and that’s me. I’m seeing all kinds of things these days. You know, The Muffin Man, for example. Saw The Muffin Man yesterday, at the car wash. I had to return the chow, as I just said, after it jumped empty along the car wash and I picked the pennies from the vacuums and blinked it home. I made a rope from a garbage can. The chow chewed me on the knee and the other knee, too. When the chow chewed me I saw lightning, a big lightning like a giant, expensive, smelly, crazy, greasy McDonald’s sign. Mom said un-lease the chow! On Sunday I saw a field and a solid gold beer can and a tree and leaves (they looked like hands just all waving at me, I swear). Then I saw the Queen of England. She looked sad and sort of rumpled purple (like a chow’s tongue actually) and I guess she could know me staring because she said, “Why am I so lonely?” I had no idea. It made me feel like at night, when the air smells hilly and purple—like the weird, wet tongue of a dog, I just said so. Sometimes I wish I could replace everything and put something nicer or drive the dreams the way bicycles won’t fall over if you stay going. Well, I saw the Queen of England at the produce market. She knocked over an orange triangle. Her dress was like a leaf pile. She said, “Young man, I want you to thump me a fresh watermelon.” I did so. On the way home I saw white flowers and a broken car and a yellow dog and the dog saw me, but I left it be for later. I walked inside the door, with a face and I handed mom the mustard greens and said, “Mom, I just thumped a melon for the Queen of England.” Mom said, “That’s fine, but these aren’t mustard greens, these are collard greens. There’s a difference.”

Sean Lovelace

SEAN LOVELACE lives in Indiana, where he eats nachos and plays disc golf and teaches creative writing at Ball State University. He recently dropped Fog Gorgeous Stag (Publishing Genius Press) and a flash fiction collection with other authors, They Could No Longer Contain Themselves (Rose Metal Press), on the world. He writes for HTML Giant. He likes to run, far.

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