Here’s a shiny new story by my writer friend Jules Archer. She blogs at Jules Just Write, tweets at @JulesJustWrite. She has had stories published in PANK, Metazen, Blue Fifth Review and many other lit mags, and is hard at work with a literary zombie novel.

Jules, thank you very much for this realistic but abstract, and poetic but impactful prose poem!

Baking Cakes for the Enemy

I.

Everything feels kind of numb and peachy. The candy-colored speculum, a rune of ancient miscreant behavior fired up and ready, Freddy. Why/Therefore/Nevermore, she sings to the man in the white coat, not sure of the saying but the meaning clear. With a delicate touch in mind, she turns it off and tunes it out.

II.

Folds the sheet and creases it clean. Bakes banana bread to doneness. Fires up that one lone cigarette, buried in the bottom of a purse and looks in the phone book under E. Anyone have a cure for an Existential Crisis? Take two razor blades and call me in the morning.

Hyuck, hyuck, hyuck.

III.

It’s all in the wrist. The flick of it. I will not tell a lie tattooed cursive-like on its inside. She eats her cake and drinks her tea. Keeps her hands red at night and learns with a tight jaw. She’s woman. Jellified into good and the evil. A slim factory of modernity; give her a shit storm of heavy and crazy. She wants it all.

She recognizes herself in mirrors and bleaches her soul in the bathtub.

IV.

The different story’s on you.