Acrylic on stretched canvas, 24 x 36″
$2300 available on ArtFinder
Oh well this sucks, doesn’t it?
And how much do you just know it’s going to end up with me taking all the blame, again?
I see the ending, and it’s not even begun.
I tell ya, it ain’t easy being me. Oh, it’s all fun and games for a while and then somewhere into the years, it all ends up falling on my shoulders and before we can say the word, “BANISHED!” I’ll be ousted once again.
Yep. She’ll bring that bald bastard into the deal and instead of seeing me as the loving soul I really, really am, I’ll be chucked into the demon files with the rest of the green slime. Then he’ll get out all his stupid tools and rocks and potions and he’ll get all frothy with ancient words and syllables and what do I get out of it? Another trip to the doghouse. Behind bars. Slammed.
It’s OK. I’m used to it. No good deed goes unpunished, as they say.
It started out so simply. I fell in love. With her. She, the beauty of my soul, my magnet. I found her irresistible. As soon as I was made aware of her, that was it – smitten for all time. Endless. I’m watching her now as she ignores me. She thinks she’s gotten rid of me. Well, she knows she hasn’t but still, she just FUCKING ignores me. OK. It’s fine. Really. It’s fine. I have forever.
Here’s where it all went wrong. The bodies. The damned stupid bodies. Who on this earth is daft enough to stuff an angel into the body of a demonic human? Did anyone THINK? How the hell am I supposed to be all ‘good’ and stuff when my hosts are all diabolical menaces? And you know I tried. I tried so hard…every time, night and day. For years!
She and I – we flew. We did, we made love on the moon, on Jupiter. On Jupiter’s moon. On Jupiter’s moon’s moon. Underwater, in the Sea of Japan, on the coast, washed up – in Siberia, in Jerusalem – of all places! We shimmered and danced in costumes, I dressed for her, I did it all for her, everything she wanted I gave her.
The only problem was – I ruined it all. And I’d do it again if I were forced to man one of those demon-suits. Wake up call: wearing a humanoid demon is not good. You don’t get good results this way. No more demons, please?
And now, now that I’m not in a human/demon, I’m just floating here, ignored. I can’t just inhabit a good guy, because – there are no good guys! The only flesh that can accommodate me is the flesh of human demons. Any idea what it’s like to push enormous wings out of a human package, especially a human with some really sick demonic tendencies? It sucks. At first, I kidded myself and thought, “Oh yeah, this is good. This is sensuous, I am delighting in this!” But no. It’s a delusion. No angel should be crammed into a human demon box. It’s just not right.
Hello miss! I’m over here, on the wall, in one of your paintings of me! You sealed me in this forever – can I at least hang around you as ether? Not even that?
Nope. She doesn’t trust me. She thinks I’m just going to jump into some random guy (or girl) and take over. She never quite got that it wasn’t me who did the wrong thing.
It was them. It was them.
The Good Demon, part 1
by Dori Hartley
“You guys are driving me fucking nuts! Would you please stop thrashing around so much — I’m trying to work here, do you not see this?”
Despite her two fat cats relentlessly ripping at her fake Persian rug in an attempt to relax their ceaseless nervous energy, Nora Bellamy, a cat lover and believer in good solid conversation always sought out a dialogue with her pets. The cats were clearly upset by the rattling, scratchy sound coming from outside the house.
Looking over at Wodka, the fat calico tabby, she asked, “What do you think? Pigeons? You think the birds are back in the gutter?”
Wodka, whose expression signaled nothing but terror, had little to say in return. Nora was used to this.
On occasion, Nora would answer for them. Continue reading