The Wrath of a Writer Wronged

by Gregory Cioffi

About the Author: Greg (AEA, SAG-AFTRA) is a professional actor, director, and published writer. He has been published in Feral Press, Blood Moon Rising Literary Magazine, Aphelion, Paumanok Interwoven Anthology. His original play The Letter was chosen and produced as part of the 2010 Long Island Fringe Festival and his next play, The Interim was selected to the 2011 New York City International Fringe Festival, the largest theatre festival in North America.

Excerpt

I recall the morning precisely. I awoke to the rapid succession of light taps of rain upon my window. I had fallen asleep in my tattered bathrobe, which was not uncommon, with my reading glasses on and a copy of Jim Thompson’s A Hell of a Woman beside my sprawled out body. I propelled myself upwards while ineffectively messing with my disheveled thinning hair.

Off to the kitchen I went, as I did first thing every morning, to make the coffee that I prepped the night before. It was more ritual than routine. When the perking commenced, I would begin my hunt. The exploration for my morning slippers was also something of a tradition and a surprising one at that as they were never in the same place. Once I found them in the bathtub. Once outside my apartment door, the list is endless.

Two Sugars with Milk. That’s a great title by the way. On a slightly irrelevant but endlessly interesting side note, I’ve been buying that 2% organic because the expiration date says the milk somehow lasts a month. I don’t know if this is even possible. It used to be you were lucky if milk lasted a week. The truth is, I don’t want to know how it works. Maybe it’s all a conspiracy and I’ll die from the stuff. Twenty years ago I might have cared—now, not so much. Imagine that? Death by Milk. Great title. I digress.

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