The Marionettes

As some of you loyal readers have expressed an unhealthy interest in those hideous marionettes, I shall endeavor to provide an update.

They are back in their box, with a stack of 50 magazines to hold the lid securely closed. No matter, I am sure they crawl out of the box to dance in the moonlight while I sleep. I am sure to make a lot of noise so they have time to hide before I leave my room to use the bathroom in the night.

However, this morning events have taken a bizarre turn. I have very fine hair which requires application of a numerous styling products to give it loft and volume. This fine hair texture extends to my eyebrows, which always need a touch of eyebrow pencil to make them visible to the naked eye. I was alarmed to notice while applying my make-up this morning that I appeared to have no eyebrows at all. The macabre duo apparently shaved them off in the night forcing me to draw them on again with a heavier hand. Later, when I caught a glimpse of myself in a shop window I noticed my eyebrows appeared to have been drawn on by my aged Aunt Edna’s shaky hand wielding a black magic marker!

I needed to take the trash out so it was down the big hill, out the gate, and back up again on rubbery legs. I then walked through the Piazza Signorelli and out another gate to a parking lot with a fabulous view. As I sat on the stone wall I noticed a peculiar substance on my shoe. Yep, I’d stepped into a steaming-hot pile of doggy doody. I walked to a convenient clump of grass to wipe my foot and noticed another pile, and then another near a paved ridge just made for shoe wiping. They were everywhere! Apparently the ghastly twins have escaped the apartment and are leaving excretory packages for me to find around town! Upon returning home, and washing the shoes in the bidet, I tried to ascertain how they’d escaped the apartment, and after a brief search I found it. There is a small escape hatch in the bathroom, which leads to a terracotta tiled roof and, after a long drop, to the exterior stairs leading to via Roma. I have barricaded the hatch with piles of make-up and hair products so I trust I’ll suffer no further episodes of mischief from the dastardly duo.