Saturday, November 16, 2013

Day 16. NaNoWriMo and NaBloPoMo

It had been three days since Joan had left for work and hadn’t come back.  She had rather enjoyed the unusual modicum of privacy.  She spent the first evening hesitant to do anything too fun, because Joan could have just been a little late coming home, although she never stayed late.  By the second evening it seemed more likely that Joan was never coming home, so she decided to stave off grief by eating all the ice cream in the house and leaving the carton in the sink, still coated in sugary residue that was perfect for catching cat hair.  Joan would have been furious had she seen it.

Eating the ice cream was admittedly difficult, but she also had nothing else to do.  Watching TV was what she did on a regular night.  Tonight was special.  Tonight she could make a mess.

It was one thing to move objects.   That was easy.  She could blow open the door, even the door to the refrigerator, which had been sticking since the time Joan kicked it upon learning there was no milk for her cereal.

She could also pick up the spoon and the carton.  Dipping the spoon into the ice cream with sufficient force was tricky, but no trickier than when Joan tries to do it before it thaws.  She would just need to press harder.

Pressing.  Pressing was difficult.  It required substance and force, sustained over time.  This had to be more than a gust of wind or a shove of the cat.  She had to keep the spoon in her hand, press into the ice cream and keep doing both as she moved the spoon through the ribbons of caramel and chunks of cookie dough.  She could almost taste it.


Of course, tasting and chewing and digesting would be the next hurdle.  Even if she got the spoon to her move, she still had to keep it from sinking right through her and landing on the floor.  This is why it was best to try such new things when Joan was gone.  No one would yell at her for leaving a pile of melting ice cream on the kitchen floor.  She never understood why Joan yelled at her for things like that.  If she couldn’t hold well enough to keep from dropping, how was she supposed to clean it up?



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