Wash Your Dishes, Carl! - Part 2


My name is Drew Klopfer. I'm a 23-year-old artist in Los Angeles. I was an avid writer on Ficly when I was younger and now I'm trying to get back into it.

Devynne was out of town, and Carl was apartment-sitting for her. Carl plunged Jeffrey teeth-first into some Chinese take-out. Over and over, Jeffrey fetched glistening pieces of glazed chicken until, at last, Carl was full.

Carl set the take-out box down precariously on the arm of the couch. Then, a minute or two later he accidentally knocked it over. Jeffrey clattered to the floor.

Jeffrey looked around. Where was he? It was dark, but he could see light in the distance. Time passed. Why wasn't Carl getting him? He waited.

Day after day, Jeffrey slowly gave up hope. He was trapped in a nowhere he'd never seen before called Behind the Couch.

By the end of the first month, Jeffrey began to lose his mind.

Two months. Jeffrey no longer remembered what his family looked like. You see, the mind of a fork is a very fragile thing. A month alone in darkness is like years of torture.

Three. Jeffrey had incoherent thoughts and no longer had a grasp of reality.

Six months. Devynne finally moved the couch.

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Jeffrey was a shiny little fork, part of a full set. For a fork, he was relatively content. His owne…

Wash Your Dishes, Carl! - Part 1

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