Prompt: Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more. Today’s twist: Make today’s post the first in a three-post series.
Losing Loose Leaf
Shiro was a neat freak. Everything about her house was spotless, and although she lived alone, she couldn’t imagine sharing her home with someone who didn’t have the same sentiments about cleaning. At every possible opportunity, she would relish the chance to attack insects with her broom, behead weeds in her garden, drown dirt in her bucket, and round up laundry like cattle. These activities of stress and excitement would give her so much enjoyment that her blood pressure would cause dangerous bouts of violence and near-heart-attack levels. Fortunately for her, drinking green tea conveniently solved her blood pressure problem quite nicely. Unfortunately for her, the green tea inconveniently kept getting stolen by a large black bear.
In fact, on this rather snowy morning while Shiro was throttling a wet rag in the living room, the bear was once again in position outside the back door to loot her kitchen of a steaming kettle of tea. One would think that after all these incidents of thievery that Shiro would gain some sort of assistance from the locals, but due to her incurable nature of nitpicking the cleanliness of others and complaining why she had to live amongst people who were clearly below her, the villagers thought the bear affair was quite funny and that the insufferable girl should indeed suffer.
This is going to be a piece of cake, thought the bear confidently, and I don’t even know what cake tastes like.
After peering through the kitchen window and confirming that Shiro wasn’t there, the bear made its way past the door and towards the hearth. With practiced movements, the bear picked up the kettle with its front claws. Mmhmm, genmaicha is on today’s menu. The scent of the tea wafted with the draft of wind from the doorway, prickling the bear’s nostrils most satisfactorily.
“I KNEW IT!!” The bear slowly turned its head to find an enraged Shiro with a wet rag and broom in hand. “You’ve stolen my tea and muddied my floor for the last time!” Raising the broom above her head like a samurai assassin, she sprinted forward and repeatedly whacked at the bear’s back.
The bear glanced at its dirty paw prints on the floor and sighed. Maybe I can reason with her. I’ll just offer to clean up in exchange for the tea. The creature stood up on its hind legs and faced the girl. Taking a few steps back, Shiro paused her whacking and looked up at the bear’s apologetic face.
“GRRRAAAWWWWWL, GRRRF, GRRRF, GRRRF, GRRRAAAWWWWWL, GRRRAAAWWWWWL, HFFF, HFFF, GRRRL, WUHWUHWUHWUHWUH, GRRRL, GRRRAAAWWWWWL. AWF?”
As the bear strolled towards the forest with the kettle’s handle in its mouth, the echoing sound of Shiro’s shrieking for help could be heard throughout the village.
For someone named after the color of snow, that girl needs to chill out. With that kind of attitude, nobody will help her. Chuckling with the shake of the head, the large black bear resumed to walk on all fours and made the journey to its home in the middle of the forest.