I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I’ve done, like my 2015 novel “You Ruined Everything”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my feed over at Ello. You can also find epubs/books/stickers/prints over at my Payhip , or support my work monthly at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!
There’s something wrong inside of me. There’s a small, flashing, orange light telling me something is wrong, but it’s a vague thought, something is strong and eating at my rot. It’s hard to pinpoint what is the problem, since every part of me is falling into disrepair, why should I care, there’s no gas in the tank, and the tire? No spare. My headlights are blinking, they’re dimming softly, no longer lighting up the way that they used to. The roads ahead of me are dark, I can no longer park in garages and take time to unwind and catch my breath.
The leather interior, the one people once lauded, the one that when new was first applauded, is now torn and weathered from wear and pain. The wind and the rain hasn’t been kind to the paint job, it’s been repainted time and time again; a new color, but the mechanical problems remain the same. My gears don’t shift the way they should, there’s smoke pooling out from under the hood, and my rear view mirrors can no longer see the potential dangers around them. Instead I find myself rear ending everything in sight, cracking bumpers, breaking head lights.
A mechanic? You jest. Someone in tan pants and a grey vest who could potentially fix the problems? I bet. Someone to take one look and know I’m upset, to write down on paper what’s needed to ‘fix’ me, who sees different problems than I see, who reads the owners manual differently. A little tune up, that’s what they said it would take, this is what’s at stake. Check the oil, the mileage, see that I’m not running the way I should be. The dashboard lights come on intermittently. I’m one skid mark away from a fatal crash, one blowout away from a brutal smash. The tires are worn, and I’m weaving in and out of traffic and I’m not wearing a seatbelt.
Check the engine light.
I need help.
I’m Maggie. If you like this thing I made, you might like some other things I make, like my depressing webcomic “In Space, No One Can Hear You Cry”, my podcast network “The Feel Bad Network” or my writing over at Medium. You can also find some published work for sale over at my Payhip or support my work at my Patreon! Anything helps & is appreciated, thanks!