Ad Augusta per Augusta*
There was once a finger-sized boy, the middle of five children. Let’s say he was an American from New York State, and let’s call him Jason. And let’s say, for clarity’s sake, that he lived inside a vagina. Both his host and he were over 18, so it was perfectly legal.
He spent most of his time inside, and stuck out his head only when bored. He left his domicile only when his hostess, let’s call her Lady Oh, had sex or went to the bathroom or visited her gynecologist. He would wait by her dressing mirror and make faces.
One day, Lady Oh had a lover over and forgot to tell Jason about it.
“Who are you?” the man asked when he discovered what was inside his lover’s opening.
Jason didn’t answer. He saw the man’s genitals, ready to perform a lover’s duty, and he was in awe.
The man took him out and examined him. “Hey, little man,” he said. “Do you really live here? Ain’t you lucky?”
Jason shrugged. Luck had nothing to do with it. He called his relationship with Lady Oh symbiotic. He did what she wanted him to do, and she sheltered him from the world, which could be dangerous to the height-challenged.
“But aren’t you tired of being monogamous?” the man continued to inquire.
“Too many questions,” Jason said. “What are you? FBI? IRS? Wikileaks?”
The man laughed. His genitals quacked like a mountain range.
“Leave the boy alone,” Lady Oh said. “Let’s do it, honey.”
She turned to Jason and said, “Sorry about that. It won’t happen again.”
“No disrespect, man,” the lover said. “But why don’t you come with me? I will show you that the world is not limited to a vagina.”
“Let me think about it,” Jason said.
The man placed him on the night table, and Jason began to think. Should he exchange his protected environment for the hazards of the big world? Should he shoot for the stars? Should he go where no man of his size had gone before? It was hard to think. The constant oh, oh, oh of the lovers kept interrupting his train of thought.
When the couple was done, the man turned to Jason. “So, what do you say, buddy? Now or never.”
Lady Oh had never called him buddy. That was the last drop.
“I will go with you, stranger,” Jason said. “Take me to the big world. Show me the light.”
And the man stuck him into his anus, head first.
*To high places by narrow roads
Mark Budman was born in the former Soviet Union. His writing appeared in such magazines as American Scholar, Huffington Post, World Literature Today, Daily Science Fiction, Mississippi Review, Virginia Quarterly, The London Magazine (UK), McSweeney’s, Sonora Review, Another Chicago, Sou’wester, Southeast Review, Mid-American Review, Painted Bride Quarterly, the W.W. Norton anthology Flash Fiction Forward, Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs by Writers Famous and Obscure, Short Fiction (UK), and elsewhere. He is the publisher of the flash fiction magazine Vestal Review. His novel My Life at First Try was published by Counterpoint Press to wide critical acclaim. He has co-edited flash fiction anthologies from Ooligan Press and Persea Books/Norton. He is at work on a novel about Lenin running for president of the United States.
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