Home » Musings » Chapter 16: It’s all too easy for Bruno

ClockChapter 16: It’s all too easy for Bruno

The alarm rang.



It rang again.


Still nothing.

Bruno was dreaming, he was somewhere far away, he was running across a barley field with a girl (obvs) they were both naked (but the arty kind of nudity – the sun is shining so bright all the bouncy bits are all blurry & too whitey/yellowy to really see anything), laughing, dancing, holding hands swinging each other round and round (and round), the faster they got the funnier it was, until they fell into the barley laughing so hard, and then he was alone, checked shirt, ripped jeans, straw hat, chewing on a long-grain of grass, dog woofing, and our Bruno was strumming an acoustic guitar ‘Ammmm talkin to the mooo-ooonnnnnn’ he was rasping, ‘I know you’re out there girl, somewhere far awa-a-ayyyy’ and then he was running, real fast, then he was flying, he was flyinggggggg to the mooonnnnn AMMM COMIN’ GIRLLLLLL’


Bruno slapped the alarm off the hammock, and it smashed into a billion pieces baby, all across the marble floor of which was soooo smooth you could see your reflection in it before you even looked there.

They said he’d retired, that he was a recluse. He’d officially written the best-selling album ever in the world, it out-sold all the previous ten best-selling albums put together, he was officially the most important person in existence (bigger than yep, Prince, the original Bruno), but now with such heights reached, there was literally nothing to do. Can I just stay here, spend the rest of my days here, he pondered, he felt like he was locked out of heaven, for too lo-wo-oh-onggg for too lo oh wo oh oh oh oh-ohnngg Oh yeah-eah-eah-eah-eah HHUUHHH. Everyone said he was amazing just the way he was, but he knew, he knew there had to be more.

The phone rang.

It was Minaj (again, bore-off he thought).

“Nickeeee, how’s it hangin womannn?’ sang Bruno.

“Bruno, I’ve been ringing all day runaway babe, do you even know what day it is? Now listen, you need to do something. You need to write the saddest song ever, but make it beautiful, make it like a Monet, an art category all of its own, make its beauty make people laugh, make them cry, but make them feel something, make them feel alive innit only you can do this boyfriend’.

“Alright you starship mofo, am on it, call you in a bit ffs” he hadn’t even had his morning doughnut yet.

Bruno mused. He went to the bathroom, it was where he did his best writing (he wrote ‘Grenade’ whilst flossing). He loved the Minaj, they had something once, but he was too busy writing the best-selling album in existence, he should have bought her flowers, he should have held her hand, he shoulda taken her to all the parties, cos all she ever wanted to do was dance, waiddddddaminute!…..

When I was your man.


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