FFBR HQ has become a bit of a menagerie. Under the sink lives a mouse I’ve named Bess after Houdini’s wife. Nevermind the Gemini loathes all rodents.
What’s more is a ladybug just crawled over the Gemini’s bed. A few days ago I caught a small roach under a cup and let it suffocate (roaches bring out the serial killer in me?). We have flies, mosquitos, and black flies which occasionally make both of us swell up with their bites.
We look really attractive, covered in bites, screaming as we flee various rooms.
But what do we do it for? What do we pay the big rents and live across from a noisy daycare for? What do we put up with the sirens and cars and screeching for? And the bugs? And the rodents? And the signs for rodenticide on the subway?
We put up with it because royalty shall be born unto New York, as predicted by the Gemini.
We await your presence, Royal Child born from the couple most crazy in love, whose empire state awaits your musical glory (you have no choice, child; you cannot become an accountant with those genes).