apinkyandthebrainhomage by KZ Rochelle (of course)
“But you get the idea. We will visit a myriad of national forests and document our excursions via photography.”
K pulled her phone from her back pocket.
A flash went off in Z’s eyes.
“What was that for?” Z asked through spotted vision.
“To document the beginning of the excuses for photography.”
“Excursions,” corrected Z.
“Exactly,” said K.
“Oh, forget about it,” said Z, extremely exasperated with K and her lacking exactitude yet again.
“Can we play a game now, Z?” asked K.
“What game?” asked Z.
“Simon Says,” said K.
“Sure, K,” said Z, too annoyed to bother redirecting K.
“I do love Simon Says,” said K.
“So you say,” said Z.
“Not me, Z. Simon. Simon Says,” said K.
“As you wish,” said Z.
“As you wish for what?” asked K.
“Must we do this again?” asked Z, recalling a similar conversation from yesterday’s attempted escape from the enclosure of these four walls.
“What again?” asked K.
“The same thing as yesterday,” said Z.
“I thought we did the same thing every day,” said K.
“We do,” said Z. “But not that.”
“I don’t understand,” said K.
“I know,” said Z.
“But you know what I do understand, Z?” asked K.
“You’ve already said,” said Z.
“Yes, The chemical potential is just the Gibbs free energy normalized to the amount of substance. But also,” said K, “what you said reminds me of a game I like. It’s called Simon Says.”
“Perhaps we should play it then,” said Z.
“Oh can we?” asked K, clapping her hands together. “I’ll be Simon.”
K put her hands on her hips.
So K and Z played Simon Says while they waited for the groceries to be delivered. But they did not play very long. Afterall, Z hated Simon Says. She was not all that interested in Simon or his commands. He was an altogether bossy figure.
“You’re losing, Z,” K said. “You have to do what Simon Says.”
“I think Z says it’s time to position ourselves by the front door.”
K, forgetting they were playing Simon Says rather than the normal Z Says, grabbed the vanity mirror and rushed toward the front door.
“See if you can open it, K,” said Z.
K struggled with the door. She grabbed the knob with both hands. She turned. She twisted. Then she turned and twisted her wrists so that the doorknob turned and twisted too.
“Ouch,” said K.
“What?” said Z.
“It seems I have a bruised wrist,” said K. “I wonder how that happened.”
“Oh my,” said Z.
“Yes. Oh, my wrist,” said K.
“Okay. Just open the door with your other hand only,” said Z.
K turned the knob with her left hand. She pulled. The door didn’t move.
“It won’t move, Z.”
“I can see that, K. Did you unlock it?” asked Z.
K flushed. She giggled at herself. “Oopsies,” she said.
K unlocked the door. She turned the knob with her left hand. She pulled. The door swung inward.
“Oh, look!” delighted K. “A box for us! It’s a present!”
Is it a present? And if so, what’s inside? Who’s it from? Or is K just confused again? Find out in the final installment of episode m tomorrow in The Days of Our Pandemic.