Pocket Lint 1

Hearing the noise of a lawn mower getting closer, suffering a little from the embarrassment he felt like his body was being "time-shared." Naked and ball-gagged in front of an open window, no less. Suspended from the ceiling looked, around and spotted Hector, his senile old cat looking up at him. "Meow." Out the window, my naked me laughed from the mower. My imagination is in overdrive.        
       
His cock shriveled and was in a sad state of disposition. His memory returning from last night's shindig. "Mama, he's crazy, crazy over me, and in my life is where he says he wants to be..." On a small table two empty Tequila bottles, lime rinds, and three short shot glasses.           
                  
EARLIER                      
                     
There, was a chill in the air as he drove up the gravel driveway. The lights were out in the house, but Hector his senile old cat was sitting on a table staring out the window. The house felt cool and lonely as Hector nuzzled his ankle and meowed for something to eat. He turned on the lights and kicked the furnace up, a couple of notches.                      
                     
In the background from upstairs, the music from Mozart's Requiem floated down like a shadow in silhouette and metaphors. Only the shadow was smoke from a burning cigarette. His stepmom and stepsister. Naked, wearing stilettos and strapons. Each of the rubber phalluses appeared to be a tentacle with suction cups. "Ok! Dysfunctional we each possessed discrepancies." His stepmom liked to get off on thinking that she was Stormy Daniels. He was thinking that Schizophrenia came closer to describing her.                  
               
It dawned on him that someone was missing. "Viola!" His wife appeared from the kitchen screaming. "CUT, CUT...take a frigging break." She was an amateur movie Director trying to be an Alfred Hitchcock producing a homemade porno flick. Then the canary started pecking at its cuttlebone as if an omen. The litter fucker never pecked this early on a Sunday morning coming down. There was a knock at the front door. Probably, Johnny Cash or DoorDash.