By all Means, Eff Off…

This week, I met cancer.

We ran into each other on a few different occasions.

I can’t say that we’re friends.

We don’t have much in common, except we know some of the same people.

Cancer is similar to a loud, unwanted party guest.

It won’t shut up and is always up in your business.

It’s the creeper you hide from in the bathroom, and wait until the coast is clear to come out.

You know the kind.

Everyone was having such a good time until cancer barged through the door.

Rude.

It ate all the food and drank all the alcohol.

It’s one of those party guests that consumes too much and pukes all over the house.

It’s the party guest that starts a fight in the living room and breaks your mom’s flower vase.

It’s the party guest that invites a bunch of strangers into your house, and causes the neighbors to complain.

It’s the party guest that only plays music it likes to listen to, and spills red wine all over your parents’ white carpet.

Can we say ‘manners’?

I was irritated every time it stumbled its way across the room.

We all wanted it to leave. But we were all too polite to say anything.

Of all the parties in town, why did it have to crash this one?

It told me it was seeing a friend, of a friend.

Liar.

Nobody’s friends with an intruder.

Growing up, I imagine cancer as one of those big bullies on the playground.

It comes along and pulverizes anyone that breathes in oxygen.

Well cancer, you certainly know how to knock the wind out of someone.

You’re a pathetic loser if you ask me.

This week, I saw what it did to those kids on the playground.

Some took a real beating.

Some had to be taken to hospital.

Some didn’t make it back to school the next day.

Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?

I hate bullies.

I hate unwanted party guests.

And I hate cancer.

I saw what it did to a mom who recently celebrated her 55th birthday.

I saw what it did to a friend who spent his weekend at the hospital.

I saw what it did to a 16-year-old boy, whose dad didn’t make it home for Thanksgiving dinner.

Next time you unexpectedly show up at someone’s house party, buy your own damn crackers and cheese.

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About lizzzfraser

I love writing stories-lots of stories.
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6 Responses to By all Means, Eff Off…

  1. Maureen Scurfield says:

    Excellent Rant. Loved it.– Maureen

  2. Wendy says:

    What a way to use the metaphor !!

  3. Nice job Liz – I really enjoyed the read.

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