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***the Mermaid paintings***

Once upon a time there was a lovely girl. She was screwed up, but not totally, which means she was okay. Her name was...well, her name doesn’t really matter. Instead let me tell you that she was a hummingbird sort of girl...always painting and writing and falling into men’s arms. She loved the world and everything in it. Her smile was one of those giant-as-the-moon smiles, the kind they used to sell Gleam toothpaste in the 1980s.

One day she noticed that her heart was beating very fast and that was even when she wasn’t! having sex. She thought either 1. she was ovulating again, or 2. she had just become an excitable person...all electric and everything. Then her hands started to shake and she started to cry a lot and she felt like all of her nerves had come through the surface of her skin. Her existence became like that of an egg stuck under someone’s shoe.

The girl didn’t know any men that were especially good at putting eggshells or even jigsaw puzzles together, so instead she went to the doctor. He sent her to another doctor, that doctor sent her to an endrocrinologist. She was sure he would bring out a wraparound white jacket, tie her in it and say, “Young lady you are freaking nuts. Bye Bye” Instead he ordered up lots of tests.

The girl, okay her name was Apple, found out she was very sick...98% dysfunction of some spinning gland inside her body. She needed to either 1. have an operation, or 2. do a radioactive bomb on the offensive part of her. This wasn’t really life-threatening in that nothing had to be done immediately. NO EMERGENCY!! Thank God. She could take meds for now and decide when to take care of it.

In the meanwhile, only half as fragile as before, she made the decision to slurp the radiation and Ha! everything would be fine.

She walked around twiddling her shaky thumbs when a nice doctor (he was her ex boyfriend) asked her to live at his house. She said YES! because she needed some help. Everything that was easy had become difficult. No one likes to see girls crying in the check-out line. And Apple was exhausted from hearing “Awww... Did some mean man break your heart?” That was mostly from other men who thought they were heart surgeons.

The doctor, let’s call him Doc, was very nice to Apple. He liked her a lot. So every Monday he would fill every room of his mini-mansion with flowers...roses in every color, blood red tulips and papery white daffodils. It was spring! Apple didn’t have any Cinderella duties. Doc had staff for that stuff. So she could paint and write and sing off-key whenever she wanted to.

But Apple still shook and was sick and felt like shit most of the time. All of the flowers were starting to feel funereal. Where’s the casket? she wondered.

Every Wednesday, yes the doc was a man of routine!, he would draw a bubbly bath for the sick girl. Then he would pick up her naked body and place her in the tub like she was a signed porcelain water know, the kind old ladies have on their coffee tables. With a soft cloth he would soap up her body front and back, then he would spray her down. The baths lasted a looooong time.

After three weeks of the flower and bath routine, the girl could no longer remain silent. Right in the middle of Doc’s hands doing soapy body research, warm flickering candlelight surrounding the tub and John Prine singing “Only Love” she blurted out, "STOP IT! THE FLOWERS ARE TOO MUCH! I AM NOT DEAD! One bouquet per week is enough. And No more baths! I AM NOT AN INVALID MERMAID!!! As soon as I find my red high heels, I will be good as new."

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Invalid Mermaids Seek Red High Heels~Click the links below to view the paintings

Have a Taste for More...Click the link below......

With Arms Wide Open