Dear Miss Proudlove

by Matthew Fries

About the Author: Matthew Fries has been writing for over twenty-five years. At the time of this writing his lifetime earnings total: some copies of literary magazines, 145 dollars (Canadian), and a Thug-lit T-shirt … yet, despite the writing on the wall, he persists. Watch for his demonic comedy "The Sick Box," soon to be published by Montreal publisher Czykmate (2021).

Excerpt

Dear Miss Proudlove,

First off, I want to offer you my sincerest apologies. This is all a giant misunderstanding. I can explain everything:

What happened to me that night at the 7-11 was a misunderstanding that spun out of control. Okay, I was drunk. I'll admit that. But I wasn't blackout drunk! And it was (after all) Robbie Burns day.    

I have this persistent rash, you see, and my jeans were chafing badly. So, before I went into the 7-11 to grab a late-night snack, I snuck behind the dumpster to attend to my rash. It was really stinging. As I lifted my leg to apply my zinc cream (I always carry my zinc cream with me) I heard some giggling. Some teenage punks must have spotted me from the street. They ran at me and shoved me to the ground. There was a struggle. I kicked at them, but they overpowered me. When I stood up, I saw them running away, waving my pants in the air, and laughing like a bunch of damn fools.

That’s how I told it in court, and that’s how it happened. I don't really care what the security camera footage says. The cameras didn't show what happened behind the dumpsters. Really, when you think about it, I am the victim here. Why didn't the cops go after those punks who assaulted me and stole my property? That is what I would like to know. 

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