Being Dead

Devil 04 small



Being dead is extremely irritating and, like living, was not thought through very well.

I was sent to Hell. That was a surprise – I’m an atheist. But why did they make me into a devil? Apparently because I served pumpkin pie to my family once – and this qualifies me as an excessively evil person. I’m not very successful at being a devil though. For a start, I’ve found a sneaky way to hand out cold drinks.

Horns, as a devil you get horns – three. The one in the middle makes me look like a unicorn with handles. Who came up with that idea? Oh, the tail I like. It’s whumpy when you hit it off stuff. Look forward to getting your tail when you die.
Not showing up in mirrors is cool. Anyone over thirty needs this function anyway.

The glow in the dark eyes are pointless. They don’t actually light your way or stop you banging into things.

Cloven hooves, and knees the wrong way round? Stupid! Also, have you noticed that goats have legs quite far apart? There’s a reason for that. Walking is scary now. It’s going to end tragically if I’m ever tempted to run anywhere.

The big red cloak? Not a chance – it’s too sodding hot to wear anything here.

And the stick … it’s not a scythe … scythes are really curvy ergonomically designed things with handles. We get a stick with a rusty blade and absolutely no information on its function, if it has one.

The main problem is claws. I hate them. Nobody needs this many claws. Picking my nose is a serious problem now, and some of the other things you do when you think no one is looking. Think about it … no don’t.

So much of this rubbish design and bad planning infuriates me, so I’ve decided to be a kind and caring devil just to annoy Satan … for eternity. I mean what’s he going to do – kill me?



©Gary Bonn, 2017

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