Elongated, Carissa crept through the hallway. Nothing save the rumble of thunder from the highway in her living room could reduce the breadth of shadows in her wake. Twopence woke with a snarl as the sky above the TV showered down little bolts of lightning.
“IT’S RAINING AGAIN IN HERE,” she snarled as Twoy began her waterworks.
“I’VE BEEN TIRED for so long, mamoi” Twopence pleaded before watching her supper handstand off the table and into the trash.
“You KNOW the drill,” Carissa eyes spun like two roulette wheels. Gorged on ire, she sent Twoy straight to her room, the little one slapping her hand just below the Palace Athena bust like the Edgar Allan Poe reference it was, until the hall drank itself silly on dusk.
Night finally settled into the couch, snug in its blankit, as Carissa plugged each light full of lead before marching off to her own too quiet bedroom.
Passing her chile’s room, she heard Twopence mutter through the “no boys allowed” scribble in her door about being mad that 2nd mamoi wasn’t done with logging all the clientele at the officespace.
It was then when life chose to crash two dishes together, waking up the gritty filmstrips. Across the stretched blankets of the kiddie drive-in inside, she watched her very own momoi, red around the collar with an early cellular brick menacing, shaking above her head, as she awaited papoi’s return.
To Twoy she muttered, at least in her own noggin, I PROMISED ME this wouldn’t happen. But the bald light over her bed drove the void in like a ball peen hammer. The serpent is eating its own tail, she thought, before slapping the lamp below its terra cotta kneecap until the void burped. I PROMISED ME but I failed you, baboi.
: andy l. kubai : writer : 