Fuzzy

The past few days, he woke up feeling fuzzy.  A slight dizziness that he did not know the cause of.  It made it hard to get the things done that he knew he had to get done.  He had an appointment the following day with his doctor and was going to bring it up.

It was still one day away, and he had things to do.  So he stumbled to the shower and did his best to get going.  He walked down the street to the store and picked up a few things.  He started to walk back up the street but was too dizzy to keep going.  He stopped and waited for the bus.

The driver opened the doors and he stepped on.  He paid the money for the fare and took a seat in a few rows back from the disabled section.  Everything got even fuzzier.  His eyes felt heavy.

He woke up in a bed that was not his own.

“Hello my sweet boy!” cooed the female voice with the slight Southern accent.

He recognized it instantly as the person he had been talking to for a while.  He looked around the unfamiliar room and caught her eyes as she sat at the foot of the bed.

“Where am I?” he asked in confusion.

“You’re here with me,” she replied.  “You don’t remember telling me you didn’t want to wait and flying out?” she asked.

“No.  No.  In fact, I can’t be here.  I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow and I have to go,” he replied in a panic.  He tried to get up when he felt the ropes holding him down.

“It’s okay,” she began, “You cancelled it.”

“Why am I tied up?” he asked her.

“You asked me to.” she answered.  “I can show you the video, you asked me to make that too, naughty boy!” she said.

She angled her phone toward him and showed him the video of her tying him up and him asking to make the ropes tighter.  She stopped as he was begging for her to get on top of him.

“Well, I don’t remember that,” he said.  “Can you untie me now?” he asked.

“Of course, silly!” she answered.

She untied the ropes and he got up.  He searched around for his clothes.

“Are you leaving?” she asked.

“I really need to go,” he said.

“You don’t want to go,” she said, sweetly.

The fuzziness returned.  “No, I don’t want to go, but I have to,” he answered.

“You don’t have to go,” she told him.

“No, I don’t have to go,” he answered.

“You want to lay back down on this bed with me, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes.  Yes I do,” he replied as he laid back down on the bed.

“Good boy,” she told him.

She kissed him and he kissed her back.  He pulled her onto him and asked, “Hey, you know this hypnosis crap doesn’t really work, right?”

“I do,” she smiled, “but thank you for playing along,” she giggled.

“Sure, fun little game,” he said as the fuzziness got even stronger.

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Author: Josh Wrenn

Cancer survivor, wanna-be artist, musician, author, and all around good guy.

28 thoughts on “Fuzzy”

      1. An yer womens! He gave ’em all away to other womens! En you jes know he one o’ dem islams. Obasama or summin. You know what? It’s called the white house for a reason, but maybe we arta paint it camo sos he caint find it!

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Okay, a critique if I may… The sister would not be making the moonshine, but would instead be home with babies making the dinner. The taste of the chaw would just add to the moonshine flavor as any good redneck should know. Sorry, but this doesn’t hold up.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Boy, you don’t know nothin. The womenfolk expected to have a baby on each hip, three or four crawling around, one in the oven, dinner on the stove, and makin’ moonshine, too. While Bubba is out hunting or scratching his nuts on the couch, drunk out of his gourd.

        Liked by 1 person

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