The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
Monster Apparent
by Angela Yuriko Smith
Today
I found the
perfect monster.
She was flawlessly
self entitled like a Barbie
complete with Malibu car and keys.
Her hair cost more than groceries.
Her nails cost as much as electricity.
Her clothes could have been a way out.
Typical monster, it was her right to have
everything. Her right that I should have
nothing. Her right to be a typical monster.
She thinks there is no judgement for the
beautiful. Those with funds get to be fun
with no consequence. She doesn’t think.
Her party and my parting coincided when
a text, a beer and three “of the red ones”
hit her all at once, and then she hit me.
She thinks she left me behind, bleeding
and forgotten. A sin on the sidewalk. An
“oopsie” for therapy. She doesn’t think.
I will be the reminder in her perfect color
coordinated house with the current year
incriminating car with matching accessories.
I’ll show her that beauty is only skin deep
by taking hers. That consequence can
follow you home. That she had no right.
I will leave her to hang in her bay window
soft skin turning hard and brown in the sun.
Like a cocoon full of inner monster. Like
a regretful chicken coming home to roost.
There she will wither, the strips of her
becoming leather to match her couch
and it will be her right to rot, finally the
Monster Apparent. And my right to live.
Fiction © Copyright Angela Yuriko Smith
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
More from Angela Yuriko Smith:
The Bitter Suites
Book a stay at the Bitter Suites, a hotel that specializes in renewable death experiences. Whether you schedule your demise as therapy, to bond with a loved one or for pure recreation, your death is sure to give you a new lease on life. Renewable death is always beneficial… at least to someone.
Spreading the Writer's Word 
Excellent, Angela!
Thank you 🙂 This is actually based on a real event that happened where we lived in Florida. A party girl left a bar late with too much to drink and she hit a guy riding his bicycle to work. She panicked and left him there. If she had stopped and called it in they think he would have survived. It angered me at the time, of course, but I’m still surprised to see it pop up as a poem almost 10 years later.
Ominous and delightfully dark.
Thank you, Anita! I consider you well versed in everything “ominous and delightfully dark.”
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