This choice: Marcel, a shy gelatinous cube • Go Back...Chapter #4Marcel, a shy gelatinous cube by: FredSmith   She opened the door. There was no one there. She stepped out into the hallway and looked both ways.
"Simone?" She looked down. Her eyes widened. There on the floor, inches from her left foot was a tiny gelatinous looking square. It reminded her of seawater from the Caribbean. It wobbled..
"Marcel?", she said, forcing a smile.
"Yes. Simone?", he said from an orifice not visible to the naked eye.
"Yes. Won't you come in?"
"Yes. Thank you. The cube lifted off of the floor, hovered a few feet in the air and then drifted into her apartment. Well, at least he won't eat much, she thought.
"Won't you, uh...sit down?", she offered. He had neither eyes nor ears and she still wasn't sure how he was speaking. He floated towards her couch and settled onto one of the armrests.
"I'm really nervous", he said.
"Well, so am I so I guess that makes us even, doesn't it?" she said, smiling She considered that this could turn out to be an interesting evening.
"Did you make curry?", he asked, A sniffing sound was emanating from...somewhere.
"Why yes" she replied. "Do you like curry?"
"I love it", he replied.
"Well, good" she replied. "Why don't we settle down to eat then?"
"Yes. Thank you Simone." He rose up off the armrest and drifted towards her. She hoped this wasn't heading towards the first kiss of the evening.
"Right this way", she said, leading him into the dining room. He followed and settled down onto one of the napkins that was next to his silverware.
"Wait just a moment and I'll serve us." She drifted into the kitchen and returned with small pot and a ladle. She placed a small amount onto his plate and then went to the other side of the the table and served herself. She sat down and waited. As she studied him, a small tube the color of polished platinum shot of his side and extended itself toward his plate. When it reached the curry, she began to hear a tiny slurping sound. Then it stopped.
"This is really good", he said.
"Oh, well...thank you Marcel. I'm glad you like it", she said, with more enthusiasm than she felt...The slurping resumed. When his plate was empty, the tube retracted itself soundlessly.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"No, of course not. Why do you ask?"
"You haven't touched your food", he said.
"Oh...well. I'm just not in that much of a hurry", she said. She ate a little.
"You seem to enjoy my cooking", she said. "Would you like some more?" At that moment she realized that something had changed. His exterior color had gone from Caribbean blue to kind of a muddy brown. She stared. He spoke.
"Well, it's very good. But maybe just a little too spicy for me", he said, in a voice higher in pitch than it had been earlier. She could see beads of sweat forming on his exterior.
"Would you like some water? There's some in the glass."
"Yes, perhaps." His tube began extending but could not quite reach the top of the glass. She moved it closer to him. He had begun to perspire heavily.
"I think I'm in trouble" he said, trying in vain to extend his tube. In the process of moving the glass closer, she spilled some water onto the table cloth. The tube went for it immediately but the cloth had already absorbed it. She tipped the glass so that his tube could reach it but it was too late. Marcel was melting. In a hoarse voice he squeaked "Cayenne! I knew it!"
She grinned.
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