My Tiny Companion

“Feed meeee.”

“Shut up, Mabel.”

“FEED MEEE.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ. Shut up, Mabel!”

“How long can you ignore my cries of hunger, Jenna?”

“Mabel, you are two inches tall and ate an entire strawberry fifteen minutes ago. There is no way you are hungry already.”

Jenna Longo is sitting at her desk, hacking away at her paper on the terrible play the theater department put on last night She has been stuck in this same position for the last four hours, only taking breaks to pee, eat, and fulfill the requests of Mabel—the two inch tall 60 year old woman with poofy gray hair and a white and black striped dress that hung just below the knee.

Jenna takes second to survey herself in her wall mirror. Her dark brown skin prevents others from noticing the bags under her eyes, but she can see them clearly. Slipping off her glasses and placing them on her desk, she rubs her eyes and stretches her neck out, giving it a good roll to try to work out the kinks that have set in. She rereads the last line she has written, picking the curls in her ponytail—a habit she’s had since childhood. With a huff she deletes a paragraph and pulls out her notes.

She notices Mabel staring at her from her place on the front porch of an olive green dollhouse, but trains her focus back on the task at hand.

Mabel stalks over to Jenna from her place in the dollhouse that serves as her full time home. Stopping just short of the keyboard where Jenna’s hands furiously type, Mabel stares at her sternly with her hands on her hips. The curly college student refuses to acknowledge her tiny friend and continues to type.

With a dramatic sigh, Mabel makes her way over to the keyboard, hopping over Jenna’s wrist and plopping down in front of the spacebar.

“I demand sustenance,” Mabel declared.

“You know I can just move you, right?” Jenna answered back. She lifted her hand to grab the back of Mabel’s dress.

“If you grab me, I will pee on this keyboard,” Mabel cautioned.

“You wouldn’t,” Jenna challenged.

Mabel narrowed her eyes behind her tortoiseshell glasses.

“I think you know that’s a lie,” Mabel shot back.

“UGH! Fine,” Jenna acquiesced, “What do you want to eat?”

Mabel lays down leisurely on her side, propping her head up on her elbow.

“Well, what do you have, sweetheart?” she croaks.

“Just say pizza rolls,” Jenna said throwing up her hands and sliding her chair back.

“It’s always pizza rolls,” she mumbles as she walked toward her mini fridge.

As she pulls out the plastic pouch filled with the frozen squares, she can hear her computer volume go up. The dance music she had been playing as background noise now fills the room. She bops to the beat as she sticks the pizza rolls into the microwave and sets the time. When she turns around, she sees Mabel on her desktop dancing with the mini mannequin Jenna bought for her intro to drawing class last semester.

Jenna watches Mabel for a second or two before the older woman notices her audience. Instead of being embarrassed, she lets the mannequin drop and turns to Jenna, slips into the first moves of the Macarena, and is clearly indicating Jenna should join in. With a sigh, Jenna joins in and has completed at least 5 rounds of Macarena before realizing its getting really late, and she has in a few hours.

She slumps back into her chair and begins rereading what’s she’s already written. Mabel starts slides over, drapes herself over Jenna’s arm, and started to recreate the beat of the song they had been dancing too.

“Are you going to let me finish the shit ton of homework I have to do?” Jenna asked.

“Language!” Mabel reprimanded, “And only if you get me out of this room tomorrow. I’m getting cabin fever, or Stockholm syndrome, or something else that sounds like a horror movie title.”

“I’ll take you out with me tomorrow,” Jenna says, “ Promise. I have a ton of errands to run and we can grab anything you need too.”

“Deal,” agrees Mabel.

With that she head back into her dollhouse, closing the front door gently  behind her.

 

***TO BE CONTINUED…at some point

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A lesson in loss

What does it mean to lose something?

First, there is the temporary loss.

A friend leaves you briefly.

A frat boy loses his dignity as he streaks across the crowded quad.

Hoots and catcalls will follow him as he passes.

They will continue to follow him into therapy sessions as he deals with his low self-esteem at the age of 34.

Then there is the loss that is semi permanent.

You have a falling out with a friend.

A lover leaves you in search of Nirvana or the ever elusive collectible, mint condition, first edition of Batman.

Semi-permanent. They may always return.

But don’t hold your breathe.

Finally, we have permanent loss.

Death can cause this.

It steals from every being during their lifetime.

We all lose someones, at some point, for some reason.

That loss is irreversible.

You cannot apologize to death.

You cannot appease the Grim Reaper with Poland.

You must accept that you have been stripped, robbed, reluctantly relieved of a presence you cherished.

Yes, death can cause permanent loss.

But so can a confession.

Words have the power to drive people away, just as they can bring them closer.

In the wise words of Mr. Michael Jackson.

People Always Told Me Be Careful Of What You Do
And Don’t Go Around Breaking Young Girls’ Hearts”

Truly words of wisdom.

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Make it black.

Scene: 15 year old girls room. Poster on wall of pop punk bands. Clothes strewn about. And in the middle sits a fifteen year old girl in a floral dress sitting at the center of a pentacle. There is a candle at each point. “Linger” by the Cranberries plays softly in the background.

ENTER MAMA BEAR (Sofia Ortega)

Sofia stops halfway through the doorway of her daughter’s room.

“Kendall. Honey, what are you doing?” asked Sofia taking in the scene.

“Calling Aer, Goddess of War and Revenge,” Kendall answers simply.

She begins lighting the candles in clockwise pattern.

“And why exactly are you calling the Goddess of War and Revenge?” said Sofia closing the door behind her as she walks closer to the pentacle.

Kendall motions with her hand over the candles and they burn brighter. Shifting her weight, she takes a breathe before she answers the question.

“Ariel Cohen called me a skank in the middle of dance class,” Kendall sighs.

She places her hands directly on the floor in front of her and closes her eyes to concentrate. The air in the room feels suddenly energized.

“Well that wasn’t very nice of her, but you can’t just bring down the Goddess of Revenge on every person who is mean to you, honey,” Sofia says.

Kendall grunts in response and continues the ceremony.

“Kendall…” Sofia warns.

The lights turn off as the candle flames turn red. Shadows begin to dance on the walls. The young girls long black hair begins to lift into the air as blown by an invisible breeze. 

“KENDALL!” Sofia says sharply.

“She told me I got it from my mother.”

Sofia eyes widen a little as she takes in the insult. Kendall turns to meet her gaze and gauge her reaction.

“Well black candles will really put some venom in the spell,” she says walking out of the room.

“Thanks, Mom!” 

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In Denial

Two mice sit at the entrance to their little home, gazing at the fluffy carpet in the living room of their person’s house.

Phil: Do you ever think about if we are bugging our person?

Don: What do you mean?

Phil: I mean, our person sometimes doesn’t seem happy to see us.

Don: Give me one example of a time our person wasn’t happy to see us.

Phil: Last night.

Don: What are you talking about? She seemed ecstatic.

Phil: She ran at us with a pan…

Don: She wasn’t running. She was walking briskly toward the kitchen with the pan to make dinner.

Phil: No, I’m pretty sure she was running toward us.

Don: You know, Phil. I think this is more of a reflection on you. You need to accept the love people want to give you. Our person wants to shower you with affection and you just can’t let her in. Embrace it. Embrace her. EMBRACE LIFE. GIVE ME A HUG YOU POOR LITTLE DAMAGED BALL OF FLUFF.

Phil: Don, get off me.

Don: Just soak it in.

Phil: Don?

Don: Yeah.

Phil: See that contraption over there?

Don: That thing made of wood with the wirey thing? OOH IS THAT CHEESE?

Phil: I think that’s a mouse trap.

Don: A what?

Phil: It’s to catch and kill mice.

Don: Yeah. Your point?

Phil: WE are mice.

Don: …

Don: AW MAN ARE WE GONNA HAVE TO MOVE?

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A Funny Conversation

Me: Whales are scary.

Lorin: …What?

Me: I read this story about a boat that stopped over a pod of sleeping whales. When they turned the motor on to sail away, the pod woke up and started thrashing and almost tipped the boat.

Lorin: Ok…

Me:Lorin…WHALES!

Lorin: What?

Me: Whales, man. The sharks of the sea.

Lorin: Oh my God, you did not just say that.

Me: What, it’s true.

Lorin: Sharks at the sharks of the sea. Whales are just whales.

Me: Not in my nightmares.

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Shady Dealings in the Albertson’s Parking Lot

Two figures stand under a street lamp behind an Albertson’s at 1:30 a.m. Their faces are barely visible. Suddenly, one of the figures speaks.

“So, did you bring everything I asked for, Freddie?” he asked the other figure.

“What? Did you think I called you down here for the shits and giggles?” Freddie answers,”I need all the beauty sleep I can get, Woods. Mug like this don’t stay this pretty without proper maintenance.”

“Just open the bag,” Woods snaps, rolling his eyes and gesturing to the brown paper bag in Freddie’s hand.

“You got the money?” Freddie asks, grasping the bag in his hand tighter than before.

“Yeah,” Woods says pulling out a thick beige envelope from inside his jacket. “I got it.”

“Alright let’s do this,” Freddi says.

The two exchange items and begin to inspect the trade off.

As Freddie count his cash, Woods looks into the bag before making a displeased grunt.

“This is not what we agreed on,” his tone threatening as he looks Freddie straight in the eye.

“We agreed on 15 of the best,” Freddie counters.

“How are any of these considered ‘the best,'” Woods challenges taking a step forward.

“Hey man, those were the best I had,” Freddie concedes, raising his hands in front of his in a defensive position.

Suddenly, Woods grabs Freddie by the collar and spins him around, slamming him into the nearby brick wall. He leans in so close, Freddie can smell the garlic from the panini Woods had for dinner.

“Everybody knows that Magikarp and Psyduck are pretty much useless!” Woods yells.

“Hey man, stop yelling or I’m telling my mom and she’s gonna tell yours!,” Freddie whines.

“Hey chill! Let’s not get crazy,” Woods says backing away and picking his bike up from the floor.

“Just get me something better next time, yeah?” Woods says lifting one leg over the side of the bike.

“For sure,” Freddie answers tossing Woods back his envelop before grabbing his own skateboard, “You still coming over for dinner tomorrow?”

“Your mom making meat loaf?” Woods asks.

“You know it!” Freddie smiles.

“I’m in!” Woods yells back as he rides away.

 

 

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Comedy Break

:Elsie enters:

Elsie: What are you doing?

Jake: Cleaning. What does it look like I’m doing? Look at how filthy this place is! I mean I don’t even recognize half this stuff. Clothes everywhere. When did you buy a hammock? Did you take Zuko for a walk because I haven’t heard him bark in awhile and I’m afraid he’s been eaten or suffocated under all this stuff. Oh. Oh my God! Is that a burrito? Why is there is a burrito in this drawer? I swear to God Elsie. How can you live like this? I mean really! You get down on me for leaving my socks on the floor while your apartment should be quarantined. Now what do you have to say for yourself?

Elsie: This isn’t my apartment. Also you’re going to be arrested for trespassing.

:Elsie leaves:

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