Avarice & Malice

I’m feeling ill, shocked, nauseous. Like after a fear fueled adrenaline rush. Good God! It was just an ordinary assignment! Not even one that was going to get all that much attention. A simple straight forward story. Yeah, I was going to sex it up a bit. Put a punchy headline to it. Drag the readers eyes across the ads and get them pause a bit. Scan the column. It’s the kind of thing we newspapermen love. Take a jaywalking fool and turn him into an epic fallen hero. What the hell is it about this story that’s bugging me so much?

I bet it was that Covello. Bet he told the City Editor to assign it to me. He’s got it in for me though he wouldn’t admit it. Always calling me cynical. Says I need to learn compassion. Probably say this was an opportunity to gain insight into the human condition. Bah! That sort of humanitarian crap makes me seethe. People don’t want to understand. They want to be top dog! Look better, smell better than that poor sap laying bloodied and soiled in the crosswalk. My job? If I can’t show them how to benefit from all the predictable sheep then I can be the one to tell them the world is full of sheep. Be the sheep shearer and sell the wool for god’s sake!

Damn. I’ve got to get something in my stomach. Some food, some antacid maybe some Rust-Oleum®. Why the hell am I feeling so bad? It’s just an ordinary story. She was an incisive market analyst. A real mover and shaker of markets but not a movie star or bestselling author. Yeah, a brilliant strategist. She could get you to lay your bag of nickels someplace where it was certain to end up in her pocket. She died in childbirth. So what. No big deal. It happens. It was that crackpot of a husband of hers. He’s the one that’s put me off. I should’ve never gone out there to see him. I had everything I needed for her obit. The story of their marriage is a worn out saw. A prize winning, beautiful young economics theorist marries a tweed clad, elbow patched aging theologian. That’s not even considered such an odd coupling these days. Just two people being weird if you ask me.

Why is this bugging me so much? That guy is just a bitter old crank. Clearly, why else would he give those kids names like that? I should’ve never gone out there. I knew what to expect from a pompous, preachy ass like him. Look at these notes! “… unleash these children upon the earth …” What the hell am I going to do with that! “The twins born of the dead mother were named Avarice and Malice by their father. A renowned Doctor of Divinity.” Jeez! Give me a break.

I need some sleep. Maybe this will make more sense with some shut eye.

Avarice & Malice


Seattle, United States

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Artist's Description

A short Short. Perhaps a prelude to a larger work.

Artwork Comments

  • Blackie
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