An Evening (in three parts)

Composed 4/4/16
Description: A belated entry for day 3 of NaPoWriMo. Today, a true and tragic tale…

I. Frustration

It starts with nail art
An oft fatal enterprise with
A high polish casualty rate

Despite recent failures I dive for
Denial and blame
Of brand name
Donning prestigious, new weaponry I
Strike again

Sadly similar failures occur
Polish too light means too many coats and
Social duties call and
A swift hand through jacket sleeve brings
Misery, catastrophic destruction

With minutes to spare I
Jump into high light I make
Hasty adjustments
I plunge into rumored territory and dunk
My hands in ice cold water to speed the dry
Surprisingly that
That’s legit

But bumps and a few tacky nails mean
I venture out in caution and insecurity
By the time I sit with food on my plate
Dryness has come
Danger has ceased
Yet
Yet that
Is only the beginning

II. Respite

A small time of calm before the storm
Then back I venture to my homeland to
Partake in needed productivity
Should be a swift polish, a print
Such naivety

My computer fails to register
The importance of final papers
Or my printer
Even the main PC fails me

Technological father figure to the rescue!
He connects, shows me the craft
My computer still denies however
The fatherboard finds our sacrifice worthy
A paper printed
An evening of success?

III. Blood

A wad of blood, sweat, and tears in my palm
I reach for a reliable friend
The stapler

He gags at the treat
Makes half-hearted chomps and spits
Out his metal teeth
I blame a lacking grip

But alas!
A repeated failure despite determination
And
And what’s this!
A red smuge blurs the cover page
With a mocking boldness
Red icing!

Bloodied, ruined
I run back to the main computer for a reprint
This occurs
I return to my desk
A binder clip in hand
As I make the motion
RED ICING
How did this happen? I’ve not touched a thing!

Grumbly now I
Meekly return
Request further use of my father’s technology
But the printer has tired of my shenanigans
It blocks the signal
OFFLINE
NOT CONNECTED

I work the craft of connectivity
One
Two times
My father is bothered again and tries
Three
Four
Power button off and on

Minutes and minutes of
Tense frustration
Lead to final relief
It is finished

I return to the room of high lights
As a final deed to make my evening seem
Worthwhile
I polish up my polish
Use my new cheat code
And notice red on my face
I’m bleeding!
Why am I bleeding?
Wait no
Cake frosting

I suspect ghosts
Or demons

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