XXII. Blob.

My window clatters dangerously and I pull up my blinds to look through the wire mesh that encases me in this beautiful nest.

I spot a sweaty little green blob about 10 feet down from where I stand. It is tossing little bits of rubble and trash from our tiny backyard. I clamp my lips to keep from smiling as I call out, “who’s that?” as if little green blobs frequent my window every day.

“It's me! Your litt- dammit I'm not that little! It's me! Your friend, the martian!”

“My friend?” I say with mock severity, “I thought we were ‘allies at best’” I throw his own words back at him

He catches them in his padded hands and softens them with the truth, “I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly, I know it's been a hard week” he whispers.

“That’s alright. I don’t need you to babysit me you know’ I say back, with what I hope is detached nonchalance, my tone veers on whiny instead.

“Don’t be flippant” he says, his bushy brows creasing. “ I know you don’t need me to babysit you. I know you're just fine without me. But I missed you too, believe it or not,”

“Hmm,” I say.

“So, what did I miss while I was gone?” He asks, his eyes all sweet, shiny, and trusting.

“ A whole lot of tumultuous nothing”.