The oven recently ate my knife. Ate it like a trash compactor, letting it fall between the kitchen counter and self without hesitating for a chance to snatch it back. I watched, like a slow motion horror flick.
"Damn." Orion looked up from his spot on his bed. "I'm never going to get that back and I had like a SET and everything." His head drops back down.
Tonight however, after a half hour of washing dishes, I'm grumpy. I'm feeling pissed off that I have a set of silverware that is no longer complete because of the stubbornness of the stove.
"Okay." I peel off a layer of clothes. Start to pull off the next shirt but pause as the neighbors would have a clear shot at me and I knew this was to be anything but flattering.
"Let's do this pal."
I crouch down and start by pulling out the stove drawer. Out comes dust, loads of trash, evidence of cockroaches and, "HEY! Orion! Would you look at that! It's you're nylabone from when you were a puppy!"
I reach my hand in and scoop out the little white bone. I thought this long gone. I get up, "NO!" I say pointing to the contents beneath the stove. I don't care if there's kibble mixed in, all the poison's that have been going around my apartment I didn't want the risk.
*** To be continued due to falling asleep ***
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