apinkyandthebrainhomage by KZ Rochelle (of course)
“This is it, K. This is the origin, where the nascent bulb of the life of my intelligence blooms out from its hardened edifice and astounds the world with its beauty and splendor. Are you ready?”
“I’m confused, Z.”
“Do you have a question, K?”
“What’s your question, K?”
“I have several, Z.”
“Fire away, K.”
“Okay, Z. Why is it called shipping if it goes by truck? And why is it called cargo if it goes by ship? Why does the alarm clock go off when it’s coming on? And why are chickpeas called chickpeas when they don’t have chicks or peas?”
“You won’t like my answer, K.”
“That’s okay, Z.”
“You prefer my answer to naught.”
“Not not, K. I have no answer now. Nothing. What is your answer?” said K.
“English is weird,” said Z.
“That’s it? That’s the answer.”
“Yes,” said Z. “I told you you would not like it. However, there’s a bit more,” said Z.
“What’s that?” asked K.
“It can be understood with tough thorough thought though,” said Z.
“Well, that’s simple enough,” said K.
“Let’s begin,” said Z.
“Begin our tough thorough thought, Z?”
“No tough thorough thought you, K.”
“But you can begin to put the plan into action.”
“Aye, aye, Cap’n.”
Z could not see what happened next as she was positioned on the counter facing the wall. But she could tell something bad was about to happen because Rochelle started to screech. And just before her screeching hit a frequency to shatter Z’s glass, the screeching stopped. It was replaced with a loud, vibrating thunk that caused Z to turn every which way she could in the vanity mirror in the bathroom in the lavender home on Wonky Way Lane.
Rochelle pulsed like a prostrate, pouting lip.
Z turned every which way she could in the vanity mirror in the bathroom in the lavender home on Wonky Way Lane.
“What is that noise?” Z yelled out into the bathroom.
Z turned every which way she could in the vanity mirror in the bathroom in the lavender home on Wonky Way Lane until she noticed a flurry of fine white particles filling and floating through the air.
“Oh, no!” Z yelled. “K, don’t!”
But she was too late. K was already in motion, swinging the sledgehammer so that it thunked and pinged over Z’s cries. She swung again, not hearing Z who continued to yell or Rochelle who continued to whimper.
“This is a fun plan, Z,” said K, whose shoes were beginning to feel a little bit damp.
Z heard running water and wished she had legs to run away on, or at least a dinglehopper to make sure she looked her best.
“It’s a bath room!” shouted K as the bathroom filled with water. “I’m taking a bath in the bathroom because it’s a bath room!”
K was having far too much fun for having caused far too much destruction.
Two boys’ heads appeared in the doorway.
“Oh, cool, Mom! You made a water park.”
“Bruh, grab a boogie board and close the door. This place is rockin’!” said a second boy.
“Nah, man! It’s sloshin’!” said the first boy.
So, K and her two sons splish splashed as they were taking their bathroom water park bath all the way to Saturday night. Which was that night.
Meanwhile, Z contemplated where her plan had gone awry and wondered how she could avert a similar disaster if she was forever strapped to K, with her face that looked just like Z’s but held such a different interior. She cursed K and the project and the rule of Covid. And dreamed about the day when she would successfully escape the confines of these four walls. Then she read an article about the cold weather in Texas.
What will K and Z try next? Or are they ready to throw in the towel (or hide under the towel)? Find out in the next episode of The Days of Our Pandemic.