Under the still, dark waters something stirs. A bubble rises to the surface, breaks through the thin film of soapy residue, and pops. A close observer would see a ripple, a movement in the murky water.
Splash! A hand. Breaking through the water, clutching at the slippery edge of the scum-encrusted sink.
He lives!
The sink will not be his lemon-scented grave after all. The dishes put up quite a fight, and they will never be completely defeated, but for now they are reduced in numbers and strength.
He is safe for now. Exhausted, but safe. A tea-towel draped across his shoulder ... a damp talisman of victory.
But lunchtime approaches. The dishes shall rise again. The battle will be rejoined. The war never ends.
You have Calvin's flair for the dramatic...
ReplyDeleteIf you could see our kitchen bench you'd know it was all propaganda. The war is being lost :(
ReplyDeleteIf you can see your kitchen bench, you are at doing OK. Its when you can't see the bench
ReplyDeleteSo that's why you're going overseas next month ... to avoid the dishes!
ReplyDelete