Four-day weekend approaches. Should get lots done, she said, fingers crossed.
******************
"He's gone." Jamie dove in beside me from his hiding place behind the washing machine. "I saw him scoot back down the hole."
"Probably went back to his nest for reinforcements." I scrolled through scuttle demon characteristics in my head. It kept me from thinking of other things, like how we were going to get out of this basement alive. "How do you know it's a 'he'? You can only sex a scuttle surgically."
"Alliterative today, aren’t we?" Jamie chuckled and rocked his head back and forth. "Sex, scuttle, surgically--that's good." Soot coated a wide-eyed, pale face framed by spiky red-brown hair, a shirt that had once been orange, and khakis that would never be khaki again.
Bambi, I thought, caught in the path of a blowtorch. I'd met a few Bambis over the years, but they had all been women. It always seemed to slip everyone's mind that the Bambi of the movies was a guy. Try naming a boy "Bambi" these days and see what happens. The poor kid would-- I stopped the panicked giggle in my throat. Breathed deep. Coughed.
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