I don’t know what I do with my life anymore.
Also, finals and school are over! Yay! Summer! Heat! Overheating! Lack of AC!
*actually this is scheduled and at the time this is published I’m playing the ukulele to a bunch of middle schoolers at a club meeting*
Linda was an airplane.
Not quite literally, but close enough. She was an airplane. She could fly. Also, she liked pickles. Pickles were very, very good.
But she was not looking for pickles but for cats.
The cat in question had been eating her pickle store, and it had slunk under the couch. Its breath smelled like pickles. Linda did not like this at all.
Then the cat disappeared, very literally, in front of her eyes. It simply did not occupy space any more.
She sat on the floorboards and pouted.
So when the wings vanished, she managed to be pickle-less, wing-less, and cat-less. The lack of cats was excellent.
Also, it was snowing outside, so she wasn’t allowed to fly. The sky was an unpenetrable blanket of white. Linda was stuck inside, annoyed, but at least it made the lack of wings bearable.
Her teddy bear’s name was Grape Juice. He had red velvet pants and no shirt or shoes. He liked lasers and aliens.
LINDA WAS AN AIRPLANE.
She went to Grape Juice to ask him where her wings were. When she saw him she realized that Grape Juice would not be responding anytime soon.
Grape Juice had lost his pants.
“Everything is vanishing,” said Linda.
Grape Juice did not reply. He sat there in pant-less indignation.
“I’m an airplane,” said Linda.
An empty pickle jar fell onto her head. Linda frowned.
Then a pair of pants, a glob of cardboard, and a cat followed. The cat was not happy and destroyed the glob of cardboard.
Linda stabbed the cat with the pickle jar, gave Grape Juice his pants, put on the destroyed glob of cardboard, and sat there and smiled.
Grape Juice was confused.