Boss
She didn't liked to be bossed, and that was why she was extra-careful not to boss. Which sometimes led to trouble because though she would never say what she wanted, she would try to get it nevertheless through a kind of sign language, through telepathy. And when she did not get it, she grew to be perfectly contented with what she was getting, which, without having been properly articulated, was much less than what she would have wanted, ideally, at least from the perspective of someone practiced at bossing. So she lived on an entirely different plane than those she thought of as "bosses" -- that is, everyone else in the world -- and while she was satisfied within the confines of that plane, she knew, just as they knew, that her world was not their world, but something lesser. Yet not having a means to compare and contrast, she felt she had reached a kind of apex by simply not bossing others. So when someone came along and asked her to be the boss of herself, when he told her that this shift was necessary in order for him to live with her, she couldn't decide whether he was doing her a great big favor, or whether he was just bossing her around.
5 Comments:
i was just becoming engrossed and you show me a sock for udders.
lady!
-hugo
6:43 PM
I know - it's kind of a non-sequiter image that's actually sort of related. Or something.
8:24 PM
Hey, G! For some reason I can't access your blog. Want to change my permission status or something?
8:26 PM
holy, what?
5:45 PM
I'm glad to see you're back posting... A story with many meanings. And I like that advertisement for a cow's bra--puting that on looks like a good way to have a animal kick the crap out of you.
10:19 AM
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