Morning all. I hope you had a good night last night. I had a dream where I was riding across the desert on the back of a large Sand turtle. It was slow going and I have no idea if there is actually such a thing as a great Sand Turtle. But I had a parasol and opera glasses and saw many fabulous sights. And now, we write.
I like the interplay of characters I just don’t know what the story is yet.
Friday, April 12th: The stench was intense.
The stench was intense. “Why did you open it,” I said, putting my arm over my nose and breathing into my elbow. My nose hairs felt singed and my eyes were streaming.
“It’s a fridge,” Ian said. “That’s what someone does with a fridge.”
“Not one that hasn’t had power to it in over six months,” I said.
My admonition was muffled by my arm but I wasn’t about to lower it. “Close it, stupid,” I said, seeing the door was still open.
“Don’t call me stupid,” Ian said.
The stench was too much. I lifted my foot and kicked the door closed. It didn’t stop the stench in the air but it did prevent it from growing. I moved to the window and risked lowering my arm to open it. It was stuck and for a moment I thought it wouldn’t open, but finally I got it open and a blast of warm, moist air hit me. It smelled of sunbaked asphalt and dank river water but it was a blessing in comparison.
I heard footsteps in the hall.
“Clarissa called me stupid,” Ian announced to whoever it was. I turned to look back and saw Carl standing in the door way.
“We talked about…oh good god what is that stench?” Carl asked. He lifted a hand to his nose.
“Ian opened the fridge for a snack and then forgot to close it,” Clarissa said.
“I was gonna,” Ian said.
“Uh huh,” Carl said. “Open that other window so we can try to get a breeze in her to clear out the stink. Don’t open it again,” Carl said.
I moved to the other window and opened it. There was a light breeze with both windows open, the air drawing through the small kitchen. I hoped it would help.
“Leave it to air out and come help me start clearing the living room,” Carl said.
“But she isn’t supposed to call me names,” Ian insisted.
Carl sighed. “Clarissa, don’t call Ian names,” he said tiredly. Ian smiled in triumph.
“Shouldn’t she apologize.”
“This time no,” Carl said. Ian’s face fell.
“But Mom said…” Ian started
“You opened the refrigerator,” Carl said. He walked away. I followed so that I could help start to clear the living room. I knew this wasn’t the end. I knew Ian would complain to his mom and that there was the distinct possibility that I would have to apologize later. Ian knew it as well. As Carl wasn’t going to give him universal backing this time, Ian shut his mouth and bided his time.
Not for the first time I wished my parents would hurry up and finish their trip. I knew it was important to them and that they need it. I knew all of the reasons. But this summer was already lasting too long. It wouldn’t be too bad if it wasn’t for Ian, but then there was Ian.
Ten til Midnight 