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.