The Slugabed

I’m going to come right out and say it: Even before Presidential hopeful Gerard Flynn showed up outside my window, I wasn’t particularly enamored of him.

The toothy grin (he’d apparently eaten corn on the cob that morning for breakfast, or perhaps the evening before for dinner and simply hadn’t brushed his teeth well). The coifed hair. The slightly cakey makeup. He’d been tapping on the window for some time. For the longest time, I lay in bed, unwilling and unable to move, my arm pinned beneath my wife’s head. It’s not that she’s heavy, she isn’t. I just didn’t want to disturb her sleep. Also, I can’t move my arm because it’s fallen asleep, and there is simply no gentle way to extract the dead thing from her head without starting off the morning in a very, very bad way.

So it’s she who comments on it, first: “What is that? Is someone tapping at the window?” She rotated on her head to look back at the curtains behind the headboard. My reaction to the sharp pain sprinting down my arm towards the rest of my body was to jerk my slightly less-deadened arm out of the path to try and throw the pain off the scent of the rest of me, which resulted in my wife hitting the floor in an unceremonious pile (as opposed to the usual ceremonious exit she made from the bed). Arm free, I threw back the curtain, after tossing a glance towards the floor and its occupants. Only to see Gerard Flynn, standing out there, as previously described. He started, as if he’d given up getting a response from this window. After a pause, he reached down below the windowsill, produced a baby in cloth diaper and nothing else, held it up, as for inspection by ourselves, in our bedroom, behind this window pane, and proceeded to kiss it in a, I imagine, loud and slurpy manner.

Then he tossed the baby to an aide standing nearby, or it might have been a secret service agent, gave us both a thumbs up, and ran off down the street.

“I hate that guy,” said my wife, from the floor, where she’d been able to see the baby kiss, at the very least.


Keep your noses clean this week, kids.


Support Sane:
Our Founder’s page: Matthew Michael Hanlon @

Tshirts & clothing: The Sane Magazine formational Shop at Cafe Press

A Book: Fenway Fiction
A Second Book: Further Fenway Fiction
For you writerly types: Download (now at version 1.4.1! Skippy!)

Or, visit our store at Amazon… check out some of the books that inspire or otherwise provoke the Sane Magazine writers.

Your weekly horoscopes.

General,Now — mhanlon.

1 Comment

  1. […] the word “slugabed” into the reading somewhere, despite it not appearing in any story (expecting the title, […]

    Pingback by Q.I. Productions - a wombat, the sink, and how it got there » Fenway Fiction Reading and Signing, October 18th 2008 — October 9, 2008 @ 5:46 pm

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.