Sunday Afternoon

Carlo sat on the couch, one striped-stockinged leg tucked up under his chin, writing in his diary. His novelty fluffy flamingo pen tickled his nose with each word. He paused every now and then, reading, then rereading his work, scratching out any mistakes.

Grace sat beside him, scrolling through Tumblr. She chewed her gum loudly, blowing it into pale pink bubbles of varying diameter.

“What rhymes with King Kong?”

“Ding Dong? Bing Bong? Sing Song?”

“I don’t like any of those.”

“No. Me neither. But it’s all I can think of off the top of my head.”

“Must be long,
waiting for King Kong,
to play ping pong
— Prove me wrong.”

Both turned to stare at Hansel, who hadn't been engaged in the conversation. He was lounging on the recliner, playing Batman: Arkham Knight in his boxers.

“Or something like that.”

He took a swig of Carling, eyes glued to the screen.

“Oh, come on, Catwoman, can you hurry up with that takedown? I’m supposed to be stealthy here--- There we go. That's more like it.”

“That was beautiful, Hansel.”

“I know. I can’t believe it either. I mean, she knocked him out with her thighs. I wish I was him.”

“It’s like Byron's in the room.”