knighton

Donald Hefeweizen Saves The World (pt.10)

Mar 16, 2008

Jefferson Dunleavy caressed the fender of his new car. Black, sparkling, convertible. Just like he’d always wanted. He whistled as he strode into the building, contemplating the new life stretching before him. He absently climbed two flights of stairs to his apartment. He was imagining a shopping trip to the Galleria. New clothes, new shoes, new sunglasses. Designer underwear.

He chuckled and smiled to himself, unlocking the door to his apartment. He dropped his backpack in the foyer and walked Frank into what passed for his living room.

Frank saw the intruder long before Jefferson saw her. Well, hell, thought the goldfish, at least he’s already set me down.

A rumbling engine-like purr stole the air from Dunleavy’s lungs. “Frank, there’s someone behind me, isn’t there?” He was surprisingly calm for someone so completely frightened. “And this is exactly like some b-rate horror flick. If I turn around I’m dead. If I don’t turn around, I’m dead. Shit.”

He didn’t even get to see his destroyer before she struck.

He did, however, get to see her. . . er, himself?. . . afterward. Only, it all looked wrong, distorted somehow.

“Everything looks wrong from the inside of the bowl. You get used to it after a while.”

Jefferson whipped around. Well, he didn’t actually whip. He drifted around, sort of floaty. And began to roll over.

That’s when he saw Frank. Big as life. In the water beside him. With him!

“Wha. . . ” Jefferson mumbled in shock. It came out in bubbles.

“I cannot believe I am stuck in this body. In this apartment.” Bathsheba’s purring voice slowly assumed Jefferson’s baritone. “Well, at least I’ve got a budget.”

Bathsheba slowly perused the contents of the apartment. “What a disaster. Everything will have to be replaced.” She craned her neck around. “Well, at least the derrière will work.”

. . . to be continued.

(c) copyright 2008 Jennifer J. Knighton

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