Oh, I guess I could have done
anything. The agency lets you
try things out for up to thirty days.
I considered being “The Time Fairy”;
did broken watches for a while
and that was cool, but the nights
were pretty slow; not a lot of stops
to make, but I had to lug the things
around in a big sack. And people
expected cash for alarm clocks and
sundials and such. My back ached.
So I settled for teeth. Teeth is cool.
It’s only kids that want anything
for them, and they don’t much care
how much you leave. It’s magic,
they think, like payday in Grinsville.
Yeah, all things considered, teeth
is a pretty good gig. And I get to
keep all the teeth, which at least
I can do something with: they take
a nice coat of bright enamel paint,
and string up into nifty necklaces;
the tourists gobble them up.
Ron. Lavalette lives in the very northeastern corner of Vermont, land of the fur-bearing lake trout and the bi-lingual stop sign, barely a snowball's throw from the Canadian border. He's been published fairly widely both in print and online. A reasonable sample of his published work can be found at his website: Eggs Over Tokyo. Ron. blogs fairly regularly at Scrambled, Not Fried.