Image: josuemei72 (Pixabay)
She dug deeper, unearthing fossilized homework and petrified noodle packs.
“Mom! Quit rearranging my room!”
She dug on hand and knees, with trowel and shovel – she must have moved a tonne of dust…
“Mom! Are you done with your searching yet?!”
Treading with trepidation across floor littered with dead insects, hung with cobwebs abandoned even by their spiders, and through a thick forest duff of decaying foolscap … the air was sharp with the pungency of age-old ketchup… She started her descent down into the dimly lit abyss, methodically on hands and knees…
“Mom!” There came a banging at the door.
The shuddering unleashed a rockfall, with a torrent of dirt and dust raining down on her head, making it hard to breathe… She reached out in the dark and debris searching by touch for her prize…
The door opened, and Troy stomped in. “I told you it was under the bed what have you toppled my papers my room is a mess get out get out get out!”
She left, choking out dust, back into the civilisation of her clean hallway, as the strange denizen of her son’s room slammed the door, seemingly perfectly at home in that inhospitable atmosphere.