“How many times must I tell you? I don’t have to pee!”
“We’ve been running for two hours. Surely you gotta go.”
“Well I don’t. If you have to pee that often, perhaps it’s you with un problème.”
That was me and Barnard earlier. Right now he’s sleeping. Probably peed on himself already. I’m keeping watch for the prison guards.
Honestly, that man drives me crazy. I know he’s my brother, otherwise I’d have murdered him in his sleep. Kidding, Maman.
“Who are you talking to?”
“I’m narrating une histoire pour Maman.”
“She can’t hear you anymore.” He rolled onto his side and stood up. “Gotta pee.”
Good, he’s gone. Now where was I?
A yelp tore through the trees.
Barnard raced towards me, his trouser waist flapping in the breeze. “Oh, oh! A bee. It got me!”
He pointed below his waist.
“Petit frère,” I said with a laugh, “that’s your responsabilité. Go throw yourself in the stream. Might help with the odour, too.”
He gave me a scathing look. “Sure. Like you always smell of violettes.”
Oh, Maman. At times like these I’m glad to have mon frère. Helps to ease the gnawing hunger pains. We might kill a rabbit, but we’re better with large game. That Monsieur Gaspar, for example. Too bad we didn’t know he was your new man.
Copyright © 2015 by Emily Clayton
Originally appeared on Flash!Friday: