How’d You Like to Play Softball Instead?

Kokoro opened one eye; her seven-year-old niece, Yukari, stood waiting by the fold-out futon-couch.

“Auntie, I making pancakes, you like?”

“Wstfgl?” She closed her eye and drifted back into sleep, imagining a kitchenware cacophony.

-—welcome our new turtle overlords—- The light shaking of her shoulder woke her. “Huh?” She inhaled the smells of coffee and char.

“Auntie, I no can reach the pancake.”

Bemused and still unbelieving, Kokoro allowed herself to be led by the hand.

Once in the kitchen, Yukari pointed. “See? Up there.”

On the low ceiling-—peeling away slightly—-was a blackened pancake.