The Kraken's Spire Literary Magazine (Volume 1)

mowers, the comical sheers that looked ready for the next ribbon-cutting ceremony
that Malcolm used to clip every stray strand of grass. All of it dispensed
daily to ensure verdant perfection, all housed in a garden shed that rivaled the
house itself.
II
IGNACIO AND MARISOL unfurled the sedentary water hose that was coiled
around two ornate hooks mounted on an immaculate subway-tiled wall.
Wrought iron fleur-de-lis, adorned with flecks of onyx, supported the most
normal aspect of this house, the garden hose.
“What kind of a person needs something like that to hold their hose?” Marisol
demanded as she released another foot of the hose from its restraints. It
whacked against the brushed cement floor, echoing across the shining expanse
that looked more like a museum than a garage. “And this place? It’s crazy.
All…all of this is just crazy.” She swept her arms over her head, at a loss for a
way to describe the bizarre world they worked in.
Rolling his eyes at his sister, Ignacio unfolded the kinks in the rubber hose.
“Mari, you should know by now that these bougie gringos like to live large.
Like to show it, too. Even if it is just a waste.” He began to stretch the hose
out, moving towards the gleaming May sun just beginning to toast the grass
outside. The hose hissed at him as it slithered outside.
The door leading inside the mansion popped open. “Nacho, are you going to
water the flower beds or not? Mr. and Mrs. Haddish aren’t paying you to ogle
at their collection of chrome rims. Go on, get out there,” their mother insisted.
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