“I’m home,” she called out as she nudged off her shoes.
No one replied. Everyone else must still be out. She sniffed the air. Something smelled deliciously savoury. Following her nose, she wondered into the kitchen.
And found a bubble monster.
She screamed. Which made it scream. Which made her brother scream. Which made her scream. And the cycle continued until her brother rushed over and slapped his hands over their mouth.
“Stop screaming,” he hissed.
She pulled his hand off her face. “You were screaming too. And what’s this?”
“This isn’t kindergarten. You don’t need to repeat after me,” her brother said.
Something nagged at her. She sniffed the air and followed her nose to… the bubble monster. Now that she had a moment to really look at the monster, it wasn’t just a bubble of unknown stuff, it was made out of stew.
“Is that our dinner?”
A carrot bobbed across the faceless head.
“That’s our dinner.”
She narrowed her eyes at her brother. She took a step forward. He took one back.
“What. Did. You. Do?”
“Magic,” her brother blurted out.
He jabbed the bubble monster with a finger and pulled out a blob of stew. As his finger drew circles in the air, the blob of stew followed, floating easily in the air without touching anything.
“Ten minutes? I tried to get dinner, and dinner turned into this.”
A few thoughts sprang to mind.
Did she have magic too?
How would their parents react?
What would they do about the bubble monster?
But more importantly.
“What are we going to do about dinner?”