Phil

by joetwo

A man I used to work with, Phil was his name, was for want of a better word, mad.
Phil didn’t chase after the rainbow. He actively tried to emigrate there, he used it as a forwarding address and everything.

He had the sunniest disposition of any man I had ever known. Bad things just didn’t happen to him, he was always able to turn it around into something good. For him a broken leg was “A great opportunity to get in some reading” or getting mugged ” An excuse to buy that new wallet I wanted!”

Phil was irrepressible and on days when I felt a little down, you could count on him waltzing around happy as a pig in muck, smiling at everybody.

There were times I would wonder if Phil really was the mad one.

########################### 

Written for Trifecta Week ninety-five

Advertisements