The Ramblings of a Confused Fish

Beauty and the Cheese (Mini Story 1: Part 1)

"Could you grab the cheese slices, man?" I hold my right hand out, my left hand preoccupied with stirring some macaroni. I hear an ominous hiss, reminiscent of a pressure cooker. The hisses slowly morph into words, then full sentences. "I need them sometime this week!" I say, impatient. I snap my fingers.

How many you need?

"Just two or three," Three slices plop into my hand. I unwrap and toss them in. "Do you want any?"

Yes, please. I pick up a ceramic bowl and shovel macaroni and cheese in.

I finally look up at my roommate. His long arms with fingers end in claws made for slashing and slicing. They could probably kill me in a second. His thin legs seem ready to collapse at any given second. His wide creeping smile stretches from one side of his face to the other. Above that, there's a terrible nothing where his nose and eyes should be. There, I've stuck a piece of paper with little dots for eyes, held on by a bit of clear tape.

His bony fingers stretch out over my head to pull open the cabinet and pick up a bowl matching mine gingerly. He moves with caution, knowing the force of my temper is nothing to fool around with.

"Careful!" I warn. "Remember what happened last time?"

Remember. He says. He's not the best at talking, but he's been improving. Some for me?

I pick up his bowl and fill it to the brim with mac and cheese. We share meals often, but we can never agree on food. Pasta and noodles are the only things we can agree on.

"We need vegetables," I mutter. "I don't know if demons need vitamins or fiber or anything, but better to be safe than sorry."

Not demon. He mumbles, annoyed. What else do I even call him?

"Fine, Jeremy." I sigh. I throw some steamed broccoli onto two plates and present it to him.

Jeremy nods in approval. For whatever reason, he's fond of the name Jeremy. Nobody knows that I have an uninvited roommate, and I intend to keep it that way. If I start running my mouth about how I'm seeing demons, I'm going to get sent to a mental facility. If someone sees him, there's no telling what kind of chaos that will cause.

I look over at Jeremy savagely using his claws to stab the pasta and place it into his mouth. Yeah, he's pretty harmless. He wouldn't hurt a fly. Literally. I tried to get him to kill a fly for me (because I hate bugs), but he told me no (granted it was because he thought he looked like his cousin). He ended up grabbing it and putting it outside the window. I don't know how he managed that with his lack of coordination.

Until further notice, I suppose I've got another mouth to feed.