Screwed
First published in Flashshot

I‘m screwed. Not in the way you’re thinking. There’s a screw jutting from the wart in my forehead.

I’d complained to my friend Manny about the ugly growth, and he said screw it. I thought he meant to ignore it. That was until I woke up this morning and saw him standing over me, twirling a Phillips in his fingers.

“Damn it, Manny,” I’d said. “It hurts.”

“Life hurts,” he’d replied.

That’s Manny’s philosophy on living. No matter what we do, something or someone hurts. Maybe he’s right. I can’t think about it now. I have a headache.

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