The Devil is the laziest man I know.
I said, “Devil you have to get a job. How are you going to pay the rent?”. But the checks came from his dad regular as the gibbous moon.
He was filthy too, left piles of clothes around the apartment like noisome stalagmites and mini towers of babel made from take-out Chinese cartons on the coffee table.
But what a pleasure to watch him talk up a woman. He had a thing for brunettes. He leans in, hand on the arm, murmurs “I will never judge you.” A virtuoso and his instrument. It was easy to forget my grievances when his women always had friends.
The Devil came home one day with a friend he hadn’t seen since college. “This is Legion,” he said. “He’s gonna stay for a couple of days.”
“Hey,” I said, “A friend of the Devil is a friend of mine.”
I got tired of Legion pretty quick. He mostly laid around getting stoned and talking about animal cruelty.
“Hey Devil, why don’t we hang out with Mammon anymore?” ” I said, trying to drop a hint, “At least he’d pick up the check every now and then.”
Legion lifted his head up from the couch: “Fuck that guy. He’s such a bourgeois asshole.” He pronounced it BOOjh-WAH.
The Devil painted and read Rimbaud. The Devil tried dating men and said it wasn’t for him.
I introduced him to a girl I liked. I came home to the two of them on the couch, rubbing each other with ice. I have only myself to blame.
The Devil was a DJ.
My internship ended and I moved back in with my parents.
Hah! Animal cruelty...that was pretty clever. It was a pleasure to meet you in the Fiction Workshop. Thank you for all the awesome advice! Glad to have you in the community! Cheers.
Hello you might like @bellyrub it is much like @randowhale.
What makes you say that?