using hands to open a door

in the morning sponge put on his arms. he put on his legs then. last, the head. done. ready to go. i wonder what happens next, he said. usually something happens.something, such as a knock on the door. a knock. coming, said sponge. i’m coming. he looked around. the room looked as always. another knock. impatient. sponge when to open the door with his elbow. are these your hands, the man said. he was the janitor’s helper, surely he was, the janitor had mentioned something about taking somebody on and collected money as well. are the yours, the helper said, and presented a pair of hands. i could do with some, said sponge, they are always useful. the hands were passed on, they fitted. thanks you, said sponge and closed the door. he would be late now, he thought, had he had an appointment of sorts. he left. there is a door after all, he thought.
evening time he returned, took everything off and fell asleep.

terror of time at one’s hands

we broke his heart, said sponge and realised a lack of short term memory. who am i talking about, he said, is it the mysterious man in the cafĂ© on the other end of town? is it?breadroll made a face. hope we didn’t cause any mess.
no no. no mess. all clean.
because if we had caused a mess, we would need to clean and could not sit and talk sociably.
no, we could not.
they had caused a considerable mess which, howerver, had been swept under the carpet and hence could be neglected.
we should come up with something for the day, said sponge.

© the Book of Sponge and Others.