Godzilla
A particularly enormous example of something
Steven looked up from his desk and stared out the window, squinting his eyes at the Godzilla-like monster rising from the ocean. He realized he needed to pee.
Steven liked it here. He kept his desk in very neat order. That was especially easy after his girlfriend left. Her shit was always everywhere, he remembered. But then he also remembered shit was a bad word. That’s why he didn’t say it. Most everyone knew shit was a bad word. That’s why they called it ‘going number two’ instead. It was OK to think shit, just not say it. Steven knew thinking something wasn’t the same as saying it. Also, that’s why he went pee more often than he went number two. Pee wasn’t a bad word.
On his way to the bathroom, the angel in the birdcage fluttered its tiny wings. Steven had put the angel in there instead of a bird. Birds sh*t everywhere, his father had said. That’s why he decided to put an angel in the cage instead of a bird. Angels didn’t go number two. But they did talk a lot.
On the wall behind the birdcage hung a giant chalkboard. Fifteen years ago, Steven had scribbled ‘Don’t rearrange my things, please.’ on it. He had written nothing on it since because he hated the feeling of his fingernails on the chalkboard, and he wasn’t willing to risk his fingernails scraping it again. The…
