Tales of the Storage Space, Part 122

Imogene like couldn’t effin’ believe she’d been so effin’ bored she’d like actually resorted to Real Life.

She watched The Gray Monster Effin’ Uber-Boring Story Teller take one last, shuddering breath.  Some alarm went off.  But like Imogene didn’t care.  She turned back to the ceiling, waiting for the next water drop that arrived on schedule to slide down her nose.  The effin’ ceiling was better than that effin’ Gray Monster.

Finally there was some commotion around the door.  Imogene yawned.  Doctors and nurses came in and went out.  Some blond boy she hated on sight rolled a gurney in with a tablet she spotted Minecraft on.  He yanked The Gray Monster onto the gurney, propped the tablet up against her feet, cursed about lava and the lack of a diamond pickaxe, remembered at the last minute to jerk the sheet over The Gray Monster’s ugly face, and was gone.

Shame he hadn’t left the tablet…

But The Gray Monster was gone too.  “Def not woke!  Dumbest effin’ stories I’ve ever heard!” Imogene told the ceiling.

The ceiling responded with a bull’s eye water drop that hit Imogene’s right cornea, making the world look…for a moment…as if she were under water. 

“Cool!” Imogene told the ceiling.  “Better than Real Life.”

What had that cray cray Gray Monster said?  Something about denial of what’s real, no matter how ugly, being your biggest enemy?  Def not woke.  Imogene was so glad she’d never had a mother to tell her such effin’ shit.

With effin’ “legendary” accuracy, the ceiling hit her left eye, and it looked like she was under water again.  Cool.  Except somewhere, deep inside her, something stirred…just a little bit…something about something The Gray Monster had said about truth and finding coral reefs filled with treasure.  But Imogene huffed at it.  After all The Gray Monster had been so def not woke.

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