Sweetish

Chapter 22

The car ride home was heavy. The air was thick with anxiety and tension. So thick it was like if anyone made a noise, they'd immediately suffocate, like the smoke never left their souls. 

On the drivers side, was a tall tailored muppet vibrating with anxiety and near to bursting with questions. She drove without thinking, looking forward towards nothing. Only her muscle memory was their saving grace. Her joints felt stiff as if she was made of plastic. She would have asked about what happened,  she WANTED to, but mer mind would just layer each and everything she wanted to say in front of her that it all just melded into a blank.

What does she even DO about this? I mean clearly she needs to do something. Does she call the police? The military? The navy? What does she tell her boss? What would she tell her mom? She'd never been that close to danger. Her mother, her sponsors,  her doctors and her professors made sure of THAT. She had a whole skin routine for if shed ever get something as tiny as a scratch from a dropped pencil to the ankle. You'd only ever know she EVER had a scar if you were her surgon or dermatologist. She was a perfect doll, and she had just seen the shadow of death nearly take her best... her only freind. She prayed to god that she would never have to deal with something as primitive as fire, as primitive as... whatever that was shed seen on the lawn. She prayed to keep her freind. To have one thing thats ACTUALLY hers, something real that stays. 

On the passenger side, silence. On the passengers side, stillness. On the passengers side, stone. Ice. Cold indifference mixed with bitter acceptance. This has happened more than enough times. Its all just a law of the universe to him. His kind will always be hated,  no matter how often his gods try to prove he's "the lucky one", that he should be swimming in blessings. 

He wondered if it's always been this way. He wonders how long and how much money it will take to rebuild. He wonders why his freind looks like she's seen a ghost. He wonders if his gods abandoned him. He wonders how much fight and strength he'll have to deal with this when he's 80. He wondered how long it would take his freind and chauffeur to break and decide his life is too much before leaving. 

In the lap of the stone statue lost in thought, was a sleeping, tired ball of fluff, with a hoarse voice. It dreamed of being big. It dreamed of eating bullies. It dreamed of mysterious cures and deep dark caves. It dreamed of fish and snakes and seeds and a pair of big eyes in the sky, reflecting off the ocean. It dreamed of seeing the future, of a ball of light, of people stealing that light. It dreamed of the light going home but in the wrong hands. It dreamed of a great big orange appearing in the sky. Or wait, a mushroom? It dreamed of growing, dying and growing again. It dreamed of hands coming out of the ground and that the forest was a cookie that had a big bite out of it. It dreamed of pooping on bad birds.

It decided it liked this dream.