whatever metaphor we come up with, said sponge, it’ll pale in view of the obvious and strike fear into the heart of the uninitiated. herr brekst, back as back can be, was asleep, fast. he didn’t react. won’t react. said breadroll. never really does this day and time. i remember, i saw him doing it. if you can’t trust your eyes, said breadroll, how good is your memory. better i suppose. suppose not, said breadroll with a finishing gaze. oh fate, said sponge. big words were never their forte.
pussywillow woodget could not believe her eyes when she saw the mess workmen had left in her kitchen after fixing something in the bathroom, i swear to god, the mess. even years after the event she denied to have any knowledge of it. i don’t believe it, she said, just can’t believe it.
yes, herr brekst said, i heard.
sponge said nothing. he watched a cyclist instead. the bus moved on. nothing more to add.