???
“We need to talk,” he said, stopping beside me—so close I could smell his aftershave.
There were no labels left to peel off the bottles, so I threw the fancy lids away instead. It made them all look plain and shabby.
I didn’t respond.
I bit into my toast.
“Midday. In my office.”
Even I want to take another swipe at him, Bouda muttered.
He was still looming, so I lifted my mug and slurped my tea—slow and deliberate.
That did it.
He stormed off like a toddler holding back a tantrum.
Why don’t we have a picnic at the beach today?I asked Bouda.We could have hours of fun there.
He could hold his meeting.
He couldn’t make me attend.
???
What if we could swim to that island we saw?I asked Bouda.
Since she’d manifested, my body had grown stronger—and with it, my eyesight. From my bedroom window on a clear day, I could see the tip of another island on the horizon.
I am a strong swimmer, she said.The only problem might be the cold.
She was right. Maybe in summer it would be worth trying.
How about we swim daily and build up our strength?
Yes. I want to meet your people. Although I’m not sure about this city life you told me about.
I thought of Anji. Bouda would love her.
You get used to the city. This island is serene—except for the owner, I said as I stacked all the toilet paper rolls neatly on top of one another.
I glanced over my shoulder at the empty cardboard tube on the holder before slipping out of his bathroom.
You’re going to get caught one day, Bouda snickered.
He’s outside. I’m not stupid, I chuckled—then paused, doubled back, and grabbed a packet of wipes from the cabinet.
???
A few days later, while I was eating dinner in the kitchen, he stormed in red-faced. I caught him in my peripheral vision and kept my eyes on my plate.
“This has to stop,” he hissed.
I set my knife and fork down and picked up the juicy chicken thigh instead. I bit into the jerk chicken, tearing off a strip of meat.
He seems upset, Bouda said, laughing.
