Lost Levels

Image by raellsr from Pixabay

The owner swung his finger under the noses o’ the Super Pintora Hermanas & barked, “¿How’d this get there?”

The “this” he referred to was the white paint puddle in the shape o’ an M lying on his brown upholstery like stagnant water in a radiation zone, its strong smell drilling into all o’ their nostrils.

The lead sister, Maria, spread her arms. “I don’t know how that got there, Señor Cupa. We only painted outside, & there are no holes in the roof–we checked.”

“¡Liar! ¡You’re fired!”

Maria & Luisa walked outside with slumped shoulders, paint buckets clanking the tools in their o’erall pockets.

However, when they looked up, they saw an unfamiliar white van in front o’ the house, only to see it zoom ‘way a second later.


Furniture, Paintwork, Puddle