Miles Davis Blowing Miles Davis


No matter how diligent, no matter how many double checks and triple checks, the sun always manages to find a crack in the curtains, smacking me awake just before I’m ready to get up.

My arms are numb. How did I manage to sleep on both my arms, is the first thought of a bad day.

I grumble my way into the kitchen, admire some dirty dishes, make some coffee. I’ve given up on tea.

The coffee maker is gone. It means M and N are already awake. I shuffle into the other room, lighting a cigarette. They look as good as I feel.

“I thought you said whisky doesn’t give you hangovers?”

“Mhm,” I manage. I sit down. The coffee left is crumbs. It starts to rain, dark and cold. M gets up and dashes out onto the balcony. He spends a few minutes carrying plant after plant inside.

“It was sunny fifteen minutes ago!” he cries, carrying some miniature tree or another past us. We watch.

Finally the plants are safe. M sits, glaring out the window.

“How’d you sleep?” N asks.

“I woke up with both my arms asleep.”

“How did you manage to sleep on both your arms?”

I shrug.

“I had a sex dream,” M announces. He frowns out the window.

“It was weird.”

We wait. He takes a breath.

“I was blowing Miles Davis. Then, I stood up, looked in the mirror, and realized I was Miles Davis. At which point Miles Davis started blowing me.”

“Uh-huh, maybe you should take a break listening to Miles Davis,” N suggest. M looks over at his collection of records, longingly.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “maybe.”

Then, he throws his arms in the air. “What the hell!”

I turn. The sun is blazing through the window. M starts carrying all his plants back out on the balcony.

“This country has lost its damn mind, sky and all,” he tells his trees.

N watches him. I light another cigarette in preparation to brush my teeth.

Author: Flash-365

Author Benjamin Davis and artist Nikita Klimov created one story and one picture each day for one year. In May 2018 they published their first book, The King of FU

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