Life is a Cliché

by Madam Z

It was a dark and stormy night the day I was trying to figure out what happened once upon a time when I was young. In the beginning, I was born, but that didn't last long and the next thing I knew I was 21 and old enough to drink, but no wiser, so I got married. But then I had the mother of all hangovers and became the mother of two kids, and I said to myself, no more drinking and no more birthing. The kids grew up and I threw up my hands and left their dad in the lurch, whatever that is, and set out to find the meaning of life. I found it under a rock, but when the light hit it, it shriveled up and died. So now I'm footloose, with a few screws loose, and trying to figure out what will happen, now that I'm old and life has no meaning.


Madam Z lives, loves, and writes unpublished stories in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, though her heart is still in her native California, which makes it extremely difficult to do much aerobic exercise.

1 comment:

Frank Viva said...

It's the little things that count. Hope springs eternal. It ain't over till the fat lady sings. Seriously, I read through all your pieces and enjoyed them very much. You're a good writer.