I woke one morning to find
that my body had disappeared. I was still
alive and well, but I couldn’t
see myself at all. Oh, what fun
I could have! I told myself.
Time for some mischief!
My first goal that day
involved scaring the shit out my wife! She
screeched and clung to the
shower wall as the curtain
moved with no one touching it.
My mischief had begun!
My next two victims were
the gardener and the mailman. I chased
poor Pedro with his own rake
and dumped the entire sack of
mail over Ed’s franticly shaking head.
More mischief! I exclaimed.
Took a jog to the corner store
and threw product off the shelves to scare
two little boys into pissing themselves.
Got in the checkout line and goosed
a pretty lady who slapped the guy behind her.
Mischief is so liberating!
I next followed a cop
tapping his shoulder every few minutes.
After looking back one too many times,
he drew his pistol on an old lady. She
gasped and choked and fell over, dead.
My mischief was getting dangerous.
After pushing two hoodlums
together and causing them to beat each other
senseless, I realized my mischief was
becoming less like me and more
like an evil demon at play.
My mischief must stop!
But I was compelled to
continue, causing more and more harm.
More people hurt, more of a rush from
hurting others just for fun. Schadenfreude
was taking over. I couldn’t stop.
Mischief had won me over!
As the bodies and cars
began piling up behind me, a mob
of people followed the carnage until
I was cornered on the 76th Street Bridge.
It was there my body reappeared,
Mischief now had a face!
The yelling and screaming of
all those I inconvenienced and hurt,
those whose friends I killed just
to get my invisible kicks, all
massed around me, demanding justice.
Mischief must be punished!
I huddled in fear against
the metal railing, keeping me from the sea
My fun had ended, the time to pay had
arrived. I couldn’t face my executioners
with a brave but sorrowful heart.
Mischief must go to the sea!
As I fell from the
76th Street Bridge, I heard disappointed
yelling and gasping from the mob.
I robbed them of their judgment
stroke, they watched in bittersweet horror
as Mischief was swallowed by the sea.