Saving Face

Copyright 2009 by Carl Garrett

Walter Boggins came home from work with the notion that his face didn't fit right. All through Rodney's leathery chuck roast, his face felt too loose and then it felt too tight. It seemed to ripple in new ways as he tried to watch his favorite sitcom. It felt wrong as he scrubbed it before bed; even his beard stubble seemed to scratch him in a different direction than usual. He finally gave up on it. With the straight razor he kept handy for just such a necessity, he deftly drew the blade in a perfect line around his face, then tore it off and tossed it in the trash with a practiced hand. He'd be needing a new one, he thought with a sigh, and followed the clinking of Rodney's chain to give the boy the bad news.

To Set the Record Straight

Copyright 2009 by Carl Garrett

"I'm not a violent person," he said. "It was that dog, that damn dog of hers. The way he'd sit and just stare at me, like he expected me to kick him or something. I never kicked him. I never did anything, okay? Or the way he'd start whining and pawing at me when I was trying to watch tv- you know what I mean? Annoying. I'm not a violent person. I'm not. It just gets to you after a while. So one night I got pissed off at it and I just was out of there, you know, and it jumped on me. Freaking dog jumped on me, like it was going to hold me down, keep me there. I lost it, alright? I know. I lost it. I knocked it down. I kicked it. And I busted it up and it died. I know. Are you really going to give me all this trouble 'cause of some damn dog?"

"Your late girlfriend," came the official reply, "Never owned a dog."