The General woke up this morning with a soaring pain in his eyes. He had been crying all night.
General Fun and he had been at a jazz band’s ball. They stood there watching, near the bar. Both looked at all the beautiful girls in their flapper dresses, and after a while, General Fun grabbed a girl and danced the Charleston till his heels bled.
General Thought never set a foot on the dance floor. All the ladies in the room looked at him. He never looked back at them. He just stood there.
He stood there for hours, and he didn’t see General Fun leave. So, there he was, minding and braining his own business.
He went home. Alone. Again. And cried. All night long.
© Rick Ruhland 2015