Dream Girl

“You’re crazy,” she said calmly.

“Sure I’m crazy. Crazy for you.”

After a few dozen times, that phrase stopped being funny. She gathered her things. “Sorry Roy, I’m done with you.”

“Baby, where’re you goin’?”

“You’re crazy, my work’s done. Next job.” She shut the door and exited his mind.

As she jumped to the next inmate’s imagination, she glimpsed at Roy pounding the floor with his skull. Maybe that will get me a promotion, she thought. Then her setting changed, a sky of grimy cerebral folds. Great, another dirty mind.

It was awfully tedious, driving all these bozos insane.