A Common Conurbation

Designated

   All nine clocks, as mandated by the Council of Elders, ticked loudly as Becky and her best friend, Gina, stared at each other. Seated around the twelve-foot long dining table that took up most of the room in the kitchen but was rarely used by more than three and a half people, they did not talk or move from their seats.

"Would you like a drink?" Becky asked, standing up. There was a drink sitting on the narrow counter that she picked up to offer Gina. The drink was putrid yellow and had a dead fly floating in it. It was expired, judging by the mold and the terrible stench emanating from the glass. A tasty and refreshing beverage.

"I am a Designated," Gina replied, her hands unmoving and perfectly folded. She was shivering slightly, though the air was heavy and warm in the house.

"Oh! I did not realize. Please forgive me for my impudence," Becky apologized profusely, a deep red flushing her cheeks. She returned to her seat, embarrassed, and although she would have quite liked to drink the refreshment, it would have been rude towards Gina. Becky ran a tongue over her cracked, dry lips. Whan was the last time she drank?

"It is okay if you wish to drink. I will not take offense," Gina said. Becky flushed again, still embarrassed for having tried to give a Designated a drink.

"No, no. I'm not thirsty." She said, her throat getting more dry and scratchy by the minute. The family pet, a large Banshee toad came waddling in. His name was Hector, and he was quite old and fat, so he moved slowly, as if deliberating every step. Becky stooped down to pick him up and stroked his bumpy orange back. He was quite content to sit in Becky's arms and closed his eyes to take a nap.

"What an odd pet," Gina mused, looking at Hector. Becky rocked the toad back and forth gently.

"I know he's not the average giant centipede or flesh-rending chihuahua, but he's a good friend and I love him," Becky replied defensively. Hector croaked in agreement.

"He does have a sweet face. Reminds me of Cyndi Lauper and Tom Cruise," Gina said, smiling slightly. Becky had met both of Gina's alligators- Cyndi Lauper and Tom Cruise were named after Gina's favorite philosophers.

They sat in silence a while more, a small swarm of buzzing flies accumulating around Gina's head. She looked pale and sweaty, and she had started to tremble slightly. There were purple-black bags under her bulging, bloodshot eyes, and her skin was pulled taut over her bones. Becky hadn't realized that Gina was a Designated. She was surprised her best friend had even paid a visit to her lowly home. It was a very highly respected position, just under Head Janitor.

"I should get going. Cyndi Lauper is molting, and I want to collect the feathers before she eats them all." Gina said, standing up. She seemed brittle and frail, her posture hunched as if in pain. A clump of hair fell off her scalp as she scratched it, the veins on her arms and face shining brightly through her waxen, translucent skin. Becky nodded to say goodbye silently and watched as her best friend shuffled out of the room to the secret trapdoor that led to a loose manhole cover in the middle of the street outside.

She quietly sipped the drink on the counter, eyes fixed on the clump of hair in the middle of the kitchen floor, a small cloud of dead flies surrounding it.