This is something I wrote several years ago during a slow period at work. A co-worker was taking a creative writing class. The instructor wrote “Dead Horse, NM” on the board and the class was to write a short story around it. My co-worker didn’t know what to do, so I just wrote this out. (No, she didn’t turn it in as her own; but she did take it to class and the teacher liked it.) It’s mundane. It’s pointless. So I thought I’d share.
DEAD HORSE, NM
Munch. Munch.
“Seen Mom?”
“Are you kidding? It’s so dark in here I can’t see a bloody thing!”
“Ha. Ha.”
“What?”
“You said ‘bloody’.”
“Oh.”
Munch. Munch.
“Where are we, anyway?”
“Dead Horse.”
“No shit. Really, where are we?”
“New Mexico.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“Dead Horse.”
“God. If I had limbs I’d pummel you.”
“Look. We’re in a dead horse in Dead Horse. Dead Horse, New Mexico. Got it?”
“Okay, okay.”
“Horse’s name was Ernest.”
“Oh, shut up and eat.”
Munch. Munch.
Munch. Munch.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m pupating, you larval lunkhead.”
“Pupating! You’re NOT going to metamorphose without me! Hey…! Hey, I’m talking to you…! HEY!”
And so the maggots ceased fighting in dead Ernest, and held a truce until they became flies. But that’s another story.
