Mrs. B's Living Room {Simon story}

When they entered the living room, Teekl was curled up in the armchair. Tommy cowered on top of the chair’s back. Sarah stood off a ways, wearing the knee and shin pads that Mrs. B used when gardening, Mrs. B’s rubber dishwashing gloves, and a pair of Mrs. B’s wrap-around sunglasses.

She looked smartly protected and absurdly out of place at the same time.

It didn’t help that she’d taken a foot-long, two-tong, metal fork and a long carving knife. She held each, poised over the sleeping cat.

“Tommy, get down,” Simon said. “Move away from the cat.”

“It- it’s not just a cat,” Tommy said.

“Yes, it is. Carl cast a spell on it. But, while he’s out cold, so’s the cat.”

“Who’s that?” Sarah asked, motioning at Bast.

“The goddess Bast,” Simon replied as if this were normal. “Nice costume.”

“Don’t even,” she waved the fork at him, eyes glowering. “I had to pull my hair into a ponytail.”

“It’s a nice look.”

“It’s a perfectly good waste of a hot comb is what it is. And I blame you completely.”

This story has no comments.