Funny stories in under 500 words.

Letter from Monogram

Greetings old friend! How have you been? Life at the museum is peaceful as always. I was at the MoMa last fall and finally flirted with de Kooning’s Woman I and wow, she is crazy. The only things that calms her when she’s having one of her fits are toothpaste commercials and deals at the Nordstrom rack.

Something interesting happened the other day. As you probably know before I met up with Bob, I was the window attraction of an office supply store. Bob jokes that the shop closed a few weeks after he bought me and that I was probably what was keeping the place afloat. You see what he does. He points out a truth and passes it off as a joke. I was an eye-catcher in my time and Rauschenberg wants to play it glib for fear of having some of my masterpiece aura derive from material alone (Oh Bob).

I still can recall him walking down the street and me thinking, “I have to seduce that gay, little Texan. It’s what the world meant for me to do.” I remember pouring myself out. It’s difficult for us x-animate objects to obtain the allure of affinity. I rolled my heart and mind into one and beamed it out my eyes. Dusty and unkempt as I was, he stopped, gave my thang a long-ass look, and begged the guy for me.

The only other person to look at me in that way was that crank, Harold Rosenberg. I sure vexed him. He came right up to my ear and screamed, “Well, are you a masterpiece or a piece of junk? Tell me! You're the anxious one, not me!” That guy really liked his booze.

I digress! Well, my old employer’s kid came to the museum. I remembered him as a kid, but now he’s a full-grown loser. He walked up and said menacingly, “So, you’re the goat I spent my life hearing about? The one that my father never stopped talking about! The goat that cost my old man his job!” His girlfriend held him back, “Baby, he’s not worth it.”

“This ain’t over, Monogram!”

So if anything happens to me….

I sure wish you'd visit again. You’re the only one that ever took an interest in me for who I am and not what I represented.

I’ll write again real soon!



This story was written by Gabriel Congdon, who lives in Seattle where he is one of the creators of the web-series. Check him out on YouTube here >>  His stories can be found in Inklette Magazine and No Extra Words Podcast with work forthcoming from Kaaterskill Basin Literary Journal. His children play The Biz is available from A Pocketful of Plays.

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