WAKING UP TO THUNK!

When we first moved into this place, my apartment mate happily discovered that there was a hook on the airwell wall right under the bathroom window. She decided that that is where the toilet brush went. Obviously. Because she is practical minded and logical. Those things need to be airdried, and who wants it inside anyway?

She may have "fondly" muttered the phrase "stupid white people" at the time. Because white people carefully keep the toilet brush guarded and enclosed, instead of breathing free as the good lord intended.
In its own tiny little bucket prison.

Over the years several have gone missing in action.


She speculates that our landlord, who lives directly under us, harvests them after they have fallen to the bottom of the airwell two stories below, and is maintaining a museum of toilet brushes. Perhaps dressed in little costumes.


"Oh happy day, another prize exemplar!"


Either that, or scientists centuries from now will discover a graveyard of these things and wonder at the creature whose remnants they are.

I heard another one fall this morning.

Her hand slipped.

Thunk.



I've had much excitement, and must rest.
It is time to take a long nap.





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