| Short Story #1 |
| Powder Monkey January 2012 |
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| Strange Bed Fellows by Willie Peters |
“Are you done?” Sternly Carol looked at the man in bed beside her.
“Huh?” Tim wasn’t looking at anyone or anything. In fact he probably wasn’t even
aware someone was talking to him.
“Wake up.” She almost shook her husband hard enough to roll him onto the floor.
“Why?” Tim tried to pull the covers back over his head. He wasn’t quick enough,
she was. The cover was pulled back exposing a round ball with hair covering one half
and two closed eyeball sockets featured on the other side.
“You’re talking to yourself so loud I can’t sleep.”
“I ain’t talking to myself. I’m talking to the octopus.”
“What? An octopus? You sure? How much did you drink last night?” Carol sat up
and crossed her arms. That was something Tim would not have wanted to see. “And
what was the octopus telling you?”
“That you should be quiet and go to sleep so your dear husband can.” This time the
covers did return to a position over his head.
“What did a talking octopus tell you. Tell me or you won’t be getting any sleep.”
“Ah, nuts. We were talking about what to name the baby.”
Carol looked at her husband before looking at her enlarged tummy. “You were
talking to an octopus about what to name the baby?” The covers were pulled back.
“Didn’t I just say that?” The covers were put back.
“And just what did the talking octopus advise you to name the baby?”
“Nimrod.”
“Nimrod? A talking octopus told you to name my baby Nimrod?”
Two eyes cracked open. “If it’s your baby, remember that when you need me to pay
for it.”
“Oh, you’re going to pay for it alright.”
Tim’s eyes were open enough to see a sinister grin. The covers were drawn up
further.
“Get out from under those covers. We got some talking to do!”
“Why? I’m all talked out.”
“Timothy, sit up!”
Timothy? Oh shit. I’m in trouble. Slowly a tired, sleepy man sat up. “Okay, what
do you want to talk about?”
“Why were you talking to an octopus about the baby’s name?”
He slowly focused in on her eyes. “You serious?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, did it ever occur to you that I was DREAMING? I don’t know about you, but I
don’t have any control over what I dream about!”
“You don’t have to yell.” Carol tried to look like her feelings had been hurt.
“If I was sound asleep talking to the octopus I wouldn’t able to yell at you. Good
Night!” Oh, I’m going to pay for that tomorrow night. Oh well that’s for later. Right
now I hope I can get back to that cute mermaid sitting beside the octopus. Glad Carol
can’t read my dreams. That couch ain’t comfy.
“Huh?” Tim wasn’t looking at anyone or anything. In fact he probably wasn’t even
aware someone was talking to him.
“Wake up.” She almost shook her husband hard enough to roll him onto the floor.
“Why?” Tim tried to pull the covers back over his head. He wasn’t quick enough,
she was. The cover was pulled back exposing a round ball with hair covering one half
and two closed eyeball sockets featured on the other side.
“You’re talking to yourself so loud I can’t sleep.”
“I ain’t talking to myself. I’m talking to the octopus.”
“What? An octopus? You sure? How much did you drink last night?” Carol sat up
and crossed her arms. That was something Tim would not have wanted to see. “And
what was the octopus telling you?”
“That you should be quiet and go to sleep so your dear husband can.” This time the
covers did return to a position over his head.
“What did a talking octopus tell you. Tell me or you won’t be getting any sleep.”
“Ah, nuts. We were talking about what to name the baby.”
Carol looked at her husband before looking at her enlarged tummy. “You were
talking to an octopus about what to name the baby?” The covers were pulled back.
“Didn’t I just say that?” The covers were put back.
“And just what did the talking octopus advise you to name the baby?”
“Nimrod.”
“Nimrod? A talking octopus told you to name my baby Nimrod?”
Two eyes cracked open. “If it’s your baby, remember that when you need me to pay
for it.”
“Oh, you’re going to pay for it alright.”
Tim’s eyes were open enough to see a sinister grin. The covers were drawn up
further.
“Get out from under those covers. We got some talking to do!”
“Why? I’m all talked out.”
“Timothy, sit up!”
Timothy? Oh shit. I’m in trouble. Slowly a tired, sleepy man sat up. “Okay, what
do you want to talk about?”
“Why were you talking to an octopus about the baby’s name?”
He slowly focused in on her eyes. “You serious?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, did it ever occur to you that I was DREAMING? I don’t know about you, but I
don’t have any control over what I dream about!”
“You don’t have to yell.” Carol tried to look like her feelings had been hurt.
“If I was sound asleep talking to the octopus I wouldn’t able to yell at you. Good
Night!” Oh, I’m going to pay for that tomorrow night. Oh well that’s for later. Right
now I hope I can get back to that cute mermaid sitting beside the octopus. Glad Carol
can’t read my dreams. That couch ain’t comfy.