The Second Section

In a lonesome cofferia, a gal and a newspaper sit unread. She has been brooding, as some people are wont to do, and probably feels that she doesn’t deserve to be alone in a cofferia. And yet, her present loneliness is undeniable. It is this kind of conundrum that keeps her enthralled, being the recipient of situations undeserved; and it leaves her chasing her figurative tail. Like a puppy.

Puppies love newspapers.

She is standing now. She approaches the newspaper. Her sneakers make squeeping sounds on the hard floor. There’s a tremble in her lip. She reaches out, as one petting an exotic animal, and strokes the floaty corner. It is like a leaf, and bobs under her fingertips. In that moment her trepidation is funneled into wonder. Disbelief spills onto her face. And it is a NEWSPAPER MONSTER ACTUALLY! IT JUMPS UP IN THE AIR, HOVERING AT HEAD LEVEL, AND IT UNFOLDS! IT IS FOUR TIMES BIGGER THAN YOU THOUGHT! BWAHAHA! IT COVERS HER LIKE A BLANKET AND THEN SWALLOWS HER UP AND SHE WILL BE DIGESTED ETERNALLY WITHIN ITS LABYRINKTHINE BOWELS—UNTIL ALL THAT REMAINS OF HER IS THIS MISERABLE, TWO HUNDRED WORD EPITAPH!