“You should have called first. What if I wasn’t home?”
“Haha! Seriously? You’re always right where I left you – uncomfortably comfortable in that same cushy, sunken in spot. Speaking of which, it’s high time to get that reupholstered, don’t you think?”
“Why are you bothering me — You know what? It doesn’t even matter, I have work to do.”
“Yeah, I’m aware, but it’s really important this time, I swear.”
“Click…click,” each turn of the tarnished knob was accompanied by a barely noticeable response from the gears. Marge had changed his mind. Once sure of the need for a chocolate fix, the shiny neon green candies from the center machine now beckoned him. Marge wasn’t normally a fan of these types of clearly artificial confectionaries, but something about this candy machine appeared promising.
Papers stacked to the ceiling surrounded the living room area, only surpassed by chipped dishes covered in crusted food and mold. We kicked the debris in front of us in opposite directions, hoping to make a pathway for ourselves to a destination of which we were unsure.