Toalla Babies


On the first day, it was peacocks, which were eerie to me because of the curve of their necks and beaks: like cobras ready to strike. I had to tell Billy that the “chicken” on the table was really his towel, as he searched for one to take with him to shower.

“Really?” Billy asked.

“Yes,” I replied. “You have to either unroll it or do without a towel.”

On the second day, it was puppies, which reminded me of my dogs back home, and made me miss them: their floppy ears and perky butts. I quickly dismantled those to chase away my homesickness for them.

On the third day, we came home to toalla babies, which I couldn’t bare to dismantle, until finally, the little one’s head toppled off in the wind.

About clutterheart

You don't know me, but you will.
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