Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
Ah... Willie Do you want jam or peanut butter on your toast? Both. You can't have both. Which do you want? I'll have the toast. ... Here. It's barely burnt. I scraped it. Have any butter? Ran out of that three months ago. Toilet paper? Don't be cheeky. Leaves work just as well. We eat less; we poop less. Can I have another piece? ... How about some water? Just a gulp or two we're getting low. You could go out and melt some snow. ... Please? It's June. It snows sometimes in June. The thermometer says it's over 90 outside. We missed spring? Yep. Straight to summer. ... What is that sound? Why do you think I'd know? You know everything! Says who? You. ... Perhaps I should peek out. If it's anyone we know ask them if they have toilet paper. And butter. And... Shh. ... It was the mailman. Left us a paper of ads. For me too? Yeah, it has my name 'or occupant' on it. I guess that would be you. I have a name. Yes, I know. So... use it. Ah, Willie... Here. Take it. Toilet paper! Butter is on sale! And oranges... it been soooo long... can we go get an orange? ... Please? ... Pretty please? I guess if there's a flyer the store must be open. Get ready to put on the space suit. We don't want to get infected by the aliens. © Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga [178.93] (29.juni.2021) ~230 words For:
Story <500 Not a vignette! JUNE PROMPT/ You've been living in your underground bomb shelter since the Covid outbreak with your imaginary friend, Wilson. |