CAUSE AND SIDE EFFECTS

I'm a big devil, or I must be one. Edith said she couldn't sleep well last night after what she saw. She told me that as a kind of side effect she remembered when she spent her days on the school playground. She recalled that she'd seen a friend of her being teased and laughed at.


"I...I think I felt compassion for those in need," she said softly. "I really wanted to help him, so we became best friends. We shared lots of things, but then for some reason we lost contact."

"And why haven't you tried to call him back?" I asked.

"I really don't know how to find him anymore...It’s just a flashback,” said Edith speaking nervously.

"What about those social network thingies like Face...?”

ADRIAN! WHO ARE WE TALKING ABOUT HERE, YOU OR ME?

"I was just being curious."

IT'S JUST A DREAM, YOU KNOW, MAYBE SOMETHING JOGGED MY DEEPEST MEMORIES, THAT'S ALL.

"Like what you saw yesterday?"

IT'S HARD TO SAY.IT'S NOT MAGICAL...OH...

She snapped and she looked back at me smiling deeply.

I BET YOU WANT TO KNOW IF WATCHING YOU WORK CAUSED ME THIS, RIGHT?

"Absolutely, woman!"

I'LL BE HONEST, I WAS MOVED...

"And," I said expecting something else, but I kept repeating teasing her swinging her arm playfully.

STOP IT! YES! YES! IT WAS SO INTENSE AND POWERFUL...

"Eughhh," I said as I made a nasty look, "you said intenzze..."

I KNOW WHAT YOU WANT, BUT YOU'RE GONNA HAVE TO WORK HARD ON IT...

Shit...All I wanted was for her to say "thank you", what the Hell was she thinking about? Oh...now I see.

Even my sweet raven knew when my eyes lit up it meant I was seeking some feedback. We could talk for hours without even opening our mouths. One powerful gaze and the rest was history; one frown meant she grew puzzled at what she saw and I knew that it'd be harder for her to figure out what I was trying to say. It's like laying an unofficial seal of approval upon my work, even though anyone was welcome to give out its own interpretation, such as Feivel, my agent, I call him the Maus. He is my OFFICIAL seal of approval. We used to joke about the origin of his name at parties and he said,

"There aren't too many Feivels out there, like how many do you know?"

And I said, "Damn, I could only remember that puny Jewish mouse from that movie..."

"Yeah and there you go! But no, the weird thing is I was born way before that came out."

So, we called the Maus; no offense intended, the guy had a real good eye for artists; it was like in his freaking blood or something. He was this sort of tall, fancy-haired eccentric dude, repellent to any single sort of fashion out there, except for wearing black. For some people it's a fetish, even for me. But considering my last name this would be completely redundant. My actual fetish though is leather pants.

The first time Feivel got hold of me he said, “You’re not an artist!” So then, I had to give him credit, I was only 20 years old. “You may look like an artist, act like an artist, and even talk like one, but your so-called art certainly betrays you, boy!” And then he sat me down and placed his bony hands on my weak shoulders while he continued,

“it has to come from the inside, from the gut! If it doesn’t cause an effect on the viewer then it’s worthless! But I like your style. You want to work me, work your ass off!”

I suppose that sort of counted as good advice. Everyone expects too much of me all the time and when it doesn’t happen, Miss Misery (or depression) doesn’t even have the decency to knock in my door and she rapes me. Ouch...I got a papercut, sorry.