#Maynia has begun!! 😁

I'll be honest -- I'm running on little sleep. I'm used to going to bed at 9pm and waking up at 4-5am and now I'm going to bed at 12:30am and still waking up at 4-5am! I'm going to be a mess by the end of this. I'm going to be as crazy as Joey himself! Or maybe as cranky as Jenny. The latter is more likely.

Anyway! You can find the first MAYNIA prompt post behind these blue words.

The prompts for today are -- storm -- and -- deplete.

Let's begin our full-length Joey and Jenny tale!

It All Went Down at the Whistling Fart... don't ask. 🤣 That title was circling my head for ages. Let's just consider it a placeholder for now.

Life Comedy for the Childish Adult // A Reverse Coming-of-Age.

 

_{Header image CC0 and courtesy of Pixabay, and manipulated in the deep dream generator.}

Maynia -- Day One -- 1546 words

The wind howled through the trees, rattled the windows in their frames, and scraped long bare branches across the glass in a series of eardrum-shattering screeches. Jenny shuddered at the noise, intently feeling the full-body vibration one felt as some arsehole ran their fingernails down a chalkboard, and huddled deeper into her blanket. Why had she left the window ajar? This wind was ridiculous. Rain pelted the metal roof in a furious onslaught, poured down the window above her head in great rivers, and a small trickle of water found its way through the gap she used for air-flow and dripped into her ear.

“Eurgh,” she groaned, whipping the pillow out from beneath her head and clutching it against her molested ear. “It’s a bloody horror movie out there!”

A loud giggle rose up over the storm, clearly audible despite the chaos, her makeshift cocoon, and her closed bedroom.

“Ugh,” she groaned again. “Of course Joey would be enjoying this. It’s a bloody horror movie in here too.”

The trickling water penetrated through the pillow’s defence and she heaved it away with a disgusted grunt, slamming the window shut in the same movement.

“There. Water begone!”

She probably should’ve just closed it to begin with but had been too comfortable. Apparently comfort was a luxury Fate didn’t want for her. What time was it, anyway? Scrambling for her phone, she squinted through the darkness then double-backed, wincing as the bright screen burst into life.

2:39AM.

“Great,” she groaned, slumping back down beneath her blanket. “Fantastic. Today is going to be fantastic.”

Another giggle rang out into the night and she held the blanket tighter around her head, barely able to breathe inside the fluffy confines.

“If I suffocate, at least I’ll be sleeping,” she muttered, releasing several deep breaths to warm up her hidey-hole and to hurry her demise.

Trying her best to ignore nature’s pandemonium, Joey’s inane laughter — what the hell was he even laughing about? — and the painful scraping across her window, she closed her eyes and attempted to find sleep once more. It wasn’t to come. Instead she faded in and out of an eternity of waking dreams, unaware of time’s passage until her alarm beeped and a single ray of sunlight pierced through the window, touching her nose. At some point during those ungodly hours the storm had disappeared and she had flung the blanket onto the floor, and more perplexing she had ended up with half her body off the bed with her legs dangling down the side.

Sliding down to the floor, she climbed upright and stumbled to the bathroom. Her shift started in an hour and she refused to be late; it was only her third week at Uncle Blair’s Wares and she would not fuck it up. It had taken forever to get this job! After Depleted shut down — an Internet Service Provider that had, unfortunately, lived up to its name — she had struggled to find new administration work. Furthermore, she had struggled to pay rent, had been kicked out by her real estate, and had very quickly taken up Joey’s offer of free lodging before her fate was to sleep in Queen’s Park’s toilets.

She shuddered. This effortless sale assistant gig at Uncle Blair’s was her ticket to finding her own two feet once more, though the free lodging truly was amazing. She’d take advantage of it for as long as she could, for as long as Joey would let her; despite his eccentricities, it was pretty cool living with an old friend.

Jenny flicked on the switch as she entered the bathroom — the heat light didn’t turn on. Perhaps that storm in the early hours had done a number on the power, except… she raised an ear. The next door neighbour’s television was on full volume, screaming PlaySchool at unreasonable decibels for this hour of the morning.

Shrugging, she blasted the hot water, quickly hopped out of her pyjamas, and prepared to indulge in some sweet, steamy, sensuous water sliding down her face and body, allowing her some semblance of life and wakefulness after her sleepless night and before she had to stumble the kilometre to Blair’s. The new job was handy. She could buy a new bulb on the way home! Do her tiny part for the household, she smiled.

Closing her eyes, she stepped into the cubicle and embraced the water.

“Fuck!” she yelped.

The water was ice cold. Well, that was a hell of a wake-up call. Leaping out faster than a frog on springs, she wrapped a towel around herself and flew into the kitchen.

“Joey,” she gasped, shivering as a cool breeze swept through the window and froze her wet hair solid. “Did you pay the electricity bill?”

Mischievous green eyes glinted out from beneath the great mop of ginger hair as he sat at the table, peeling prawns.

“No,” he smiled. “Did you?”

“Joey!”

Carefully placing a peeled prawn into a bowl already half-filled, he casually tossed the shell over his shoulder towards the sink, missing it completely. There were at least two dozen prawn shells littered across the floor, a few more on the counter, and by complete luck there was one lonely prawn head sitting in the sink.

“I’ll deal with it,” he shrugged. “Breakfast first.”

“Prawns? You’re seriously having prawns for breakfast?”

“Breakfast of champions,” he nodded solemnly. “The heads and shells are useful too. Not for eating, of course.”

“I’m not gonna ask,” Jenny grimaced, turning back down the hallway.

A steamy shower was out of the question but she was awake now and at least there was deodorant in the cupboard. She would not stink up Uncle Blair’s — not this day! Whipping her freezing wet hair into a makeshift bun on top of her head, she hurried into her work uniform, coated herself from head to toe with her shower-in-a-can, and returned to the kitchen. Though not a fan of prawns, breakfast sounded good and she had just the thing prepared. Delicious muffins, fresh from Blair’s Bakery.

“How are you even awake right now?” she asked, rummaging through the pantry for the box she had stashed. “You were giggling all night! I could hear you over the storm,” she paused as her hands found the smooth box filled with deliciousness, her heart filling with glee as she pulled it out from behind a mountain of canned spaghetti that had kept it hidden. “I also have no idea how I could hear you; it was madness out there!”

“Prawn peeling is a deeply complex process that requires my absolute attention, thus keeping my brain occupied and awake. Breakfast of champions,” he repeated with a grin, ignoring the loaded question hidden behind her actual question.

She brushed his answer away with a roll of her eyes and simultaneously brushed an unfortunate prawn head off of a dining chair before settling into it, then whipped open the muffin box.

“Uh…”

It was empty.

“Joey, I had three banana muffins in here. For today’s breakfast. For right now. Did you eat them?”

“Nope,” he said, biting down on deep orange prawn flesh.

“Really? It’s just you and me, the muffins are gone…”

A cheeky smile broke out across his freckled cheeks as he stuck out his tongue and placed another freshly peeled prawn onto it, then curled it into his mouth and chomped loudly.

“Nope.”

“I demand restitution,” Jenny sniffed, pushing herself up away from the table and the seafood scent. “I’ll be back at around one p.m. and I’d better see fresh muffins on the table.”

Joey giggled and Jenny wrinkled her nose as prawn juice dribbled down his chin.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll just be going now.”

“Byyyye,” Joey sang, the volume of his laughter increasing the further she walked from him.

She’d never understand him and wasn’t sure she really wanted to. They had been friends for years but these past couple of months were the first they had spent longer than a few hours in each other’s presence. It was amazing what you didn’t know about people until you lived under the same roof as them.

Whipping open the door, she stepped into the outside world and jumped aback as something dropped onto her messy hair-bun and bounced into her hands. A muffin. A muffin that looked eerily similar to Blair’s Bakery muffins. With wide eyes, she spun around and stared at the door and there they were, the other two, sitting haphazardly atop the frame.

“Very funny,” she yelled into the house. “I still demand restitution!”

The muffin that had bounced into her hands looked perfectly edible. Crisp and golden on the outside, a light pinch hinted at the soft crumbs on the inside, and after giving it the once over she wiped a smidgen of door-dust from it’s bottom and bit into it. It was still delicious. Joey must’ve done it recently. Maybe that’s what he had been cackling about during the early hours of the morning, although it wasn’t wet. Who knew.

Shaking her head, she gobbled up the remainder of the muffin, left the other two sitting atop their new home, and wandered into town towards Uncle Blair’s Wares.