VOIDBLACK2008                                                                                                                                      ISSUE 8
PHOTOS BY DREAMA

          Have you ever had the misfortune of needing a cast?  I don’t mean the fishing or the Broadway type.  I mean that due to some type of body malfunction or trauma to your person, a doctor has deemed it necessary for you to wear a block of cement on a limb for an inordinate amount of time.  I have very recently been on the casting couch for the fourth time in my life.  I am currently experiencing my fifth week of cast dome.

          This time, the armament is gracing my left arm from hand to shoulder.  It is molded  in a 90 degree angle bent smartly at the elbow. It appears that I am constantly signaling a right hand turn because my blinkers don’t work.  Nowadays, due to a major medical breakthrough, one has the option of choosing from of a variety of colors for a cast.  I chose blue because it matched many of my outfits (I’m a professional Cub Scout and I modeled for Picasso) and my mood at the time.  The casting director told me that one woman had a red and white striped cast built to celebrate the Yule time.  Imagine her wardrobe.  Imagine her Christmas decorations.

          Once fitted with this orthopedic albatross,  I immediately encountered my first cast bound limitation while trying to write a check to the receptionist for services rendered.  I asked if she had an ink stamp and she told me she did,  but the one for my signature wasn’t back from press yet.  I giggled and made a lame attempt at endorsing the check.  In the process I knocked over several office knick-knacks and the doctor’s diploma off the wall.  My penmanship was so poor that she asked me for some identification. This prompted me to show her my unique birthmark.  When she was finally convinced I was me,  she reluctantly accepted the check.  I knew in my heart I had lost credibility in her eyes.  I knew for a fact my fencing lessons would be put on hold.  It was guaranteed my traveling hand shadow exhibition would be canceled unless I could incorporate a stubby python wearing a jester’s hat into the act. These thoughts passed through my mind as I left the office alone and dejected.

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