Best Of All, A Festival!

    One minute I'd been with Kevan wandering the Potato Zoo and then the next I'd found myself in a strange hallway with the path behind me closed off. I could barely hear Kevan's muffled cry.
"KEVAAAAN!!! CAN YOU HEAR ME?" I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted at the top of my lungs, but my voice just reverberated off the dark walls, bouncing about like a drunken bouncy ball.

I was stuck. 

My eyes gently adjusting to the dimness of the room and I saw a sliver of light to my right so I began to shuffle my feet carefully towards it. A light scent of lemon caressed my sensitive nose as I moved closer. The glow was a vibrant yellow and shimmered as though it was reflecting off some sort of water. I heard a gentle trickle and it tickled my ear with inviting dribbles, drawing me forward for it seemed I had no where to go but onwards and upwards. The light cast a watery shadow as I reached up to push aside a white curtain, eager to be out of the damp darkness. As I pulled it aside I nearly tumbled straight down a monstrous cavern filled with some sort of yellowy sticky substance thrust betwixt by a gigantuous raging waterfall. I dipped my finger into the substance and brought it to my nose. Lemon. 

"Lemon jelly!" I exclaimed aloud. Just then, across the way, Kevan burst through a corresponding tunnel. 

"Lemon jelly!" He laughed right back. "By Jove we've found a subterranian-lemon-jelly-fall!" I quickly scaled the edge of the cavern to join Kevan on the other side. I quietly grasped his hand and we grinned in silence at the glorious luminescent goodness that poured from some unseen source and both agreed that the Station was a magical place. There are many rooms left undiscovered, nooks and crannies full of adventure, and it was all ours to explore. Kevan turned to me and patted my head and said,

"There are a great many things to be thankful for in life, but this is one of the best and I'm glad to share it with you." I let one small tear escape from the corner of my eye.

The rest of that day was a blur, but let's just say that we celebrated with the first ever annual Station-wide Festival of Lemon Jelly and there was so much laughter and joy that I swear I could hear the windows and doors creaking in wondrous agreement that we were living a fine life indeed. 

Focus and Potatoes

"I can't do thiiiiiiis," I wailed, and Hannah heard me from across the Station. 

Within seconds, she flew into the room, courtesy of our newly installed slide system. She landed brilliantly on her feet and struck a pose with fists on hips. I half-expected her to crow next, but she just furrowed her brow and awaited my explanation. 

"I can't focus," I said with a lowered head. 

My beloved cousin hmmmed to herself. She squinted and positioned her hands before her, twisting them as if adjusting a camera lense. After a minute, she paused, shook her head, and tried again. Finally, she gave up and screwed her smile in thought. 

"It's worse than I thought," she said. "What's on your mind?"

I shuffled my feet. She knew the answer already. 

"It's the Woman, isn't it?"

I didn't have to nod to confirm it. That Watson of mine, she knew and she also knew the cure. Find potatoes, mash potatoes, eat potatoes while watching a Jimmy Stewart movie. Everything is gonna be alright. Especially since we had a Potato Zoo in the basement of the Station. 

"To the Zoo," Hannah cried, a common call to adventure in the Station. 

We gathered the troops, prepped the arsenal, and packed PB&J's. Of course, we painted our faces as well, which is a must-do when hunting wild spuds. Hannah drew an arrow across my forehead and I put a to-scale grizzly bear over her left cheek and eye. Our machetes were sharpened by Knack, who was settling nicely into our way of life. Hannah had taken a fancy to him last time he sharpened our blades, so she escaped to another room this time to avoid further such sentiments. Once everything was ready, we set our feet into the basement, into certain danger. 

It was dark, for starters. There was a funny smell, reminiscent of the great lemon pipe burst of last year and that had entailed. There was also a sound, the sound of potatoes, and they sounded ready to take on the world. 

I unsheathed my machete and turned to where I assumed Hannah was, it was so dark. 

"What's on your mind now?" she asked, her sweet voice emerging from the blackness. 

As a potato bumped my foot, I sidestepped it and examined my thoughts. Potatoes, machetes, an army at my back, certain danger before us. What was on my mind?

"The Woman," I confessed. 

"Well, I guess we'll just have to--" came Hannah's voice, then nothing. 

Silence. 

Where was she? Was she alive? Had the potatoes gotten her? 

That Watson of mine, she knew the cure.