I’ve come to mistrust the little guy inside my head. He used to be calm, dependable but over the years he’s become a little loopy, his thinking transgressive. Now I hardly know him. He’s a loose cannon, an IED waiting to be stepped on.
Look, I say, let’s be reasonable. You can’t say that! And you definitely can’t do that! You want us to end up in prison? Sometimes I give him drugs to quieten him, talk him down, get him to see reason. I love the little guy. I just wish he was more like me.
John Malone is a South Australian writer of short stories, flash fiction and poetry