Macaroni and Cheese
a prose poem
Mr. Smith had come home to his wife only to find she was dead.
“You’re dead?” He asked.
“No, I’m just resting face down on the cold kitchen floor. Or course I’m dead you idiot.” She yelled at him.
“Did you make me any dinner?”
“Yes, there is some Macaroni and Cheese in the refrigerator. You just have to put it in the oven for about fifteen minutes and it will be ready.”
“Thank you.” Mr. Smith said as he stepped over his wife's body and opened the refrigerator to get to his macaroni and cheese. “As long as I’m here do you want anything?” Mr. Smith asked politely.
“No you idiot. I’m dead.”
“No need to get snippy.” Mr. Smith said. “Boy, you sure are cranky when you’re dead.”
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