Seems like only yesterday — but — Kookaburra was just a puppy — when the neighbors told me about their Just in Case Supplies.
They were wearing matching purple sweatsuits — No, they’re violet, she insisted — because — violet is the highest frequency. Their amethyst amulets were opulent in an understated way. The gold chains were excessive. A distraction. I thought. I did like their sneakers — Reeboks, I think. Puffy like marshmallows — high tops.
Criss-crossing each other like automatons — inspecting and reinspecting — they were putting all sorts of numbers — codes, he said — on boxes — lots of boxes — piled up way too crazy high — in their jam-packed garage.
I asked — just in case — if they would share their supplies — Just in case?
Get your own, she snapped. Sounded like a growl.
When he died — not that long ago — those boxes — the ones filled with their Just in Case Supplies — started disappearing — one by one.
His — not mine.
She still wears the purple sweatsuit.