September 02, 2012

No. 181

With some minor manipulation, the box became a fort. Not a fancy fort, mind you, but one that could withstand at least a hurled action figure or two.
This is exactly what it would need to do in order to last the next fifteen minutes. Frank and Tommy were in the other room planning some sort of assault. Jill and Brittany hunkered down behind the cardboard walls and waited. They had a secret weapon. The boys would never see it coming.
The attack began with a cough. Brittany thought it was Frank who gave away the element of surprise. Jill disagreed. A plastic gun appeared in the doorway and foam darts whizzed wildly around the room. Then there was a shout followed by a scrabble of socks on hardwood floor as the invaders launched themselves toward the girls' stronghold. An army man with a missing arm clipped the top of the box wall and spun in an erratic arc over Jill’s head.
The girls stayed where they were. They didn’t fight back like the boys expected.
Tommy noticed it first. He paused, mid-throw, and grabbed Frank’s shoulder. They were frozen in the middle of the room. Exposed. Frank saw it, too.
The girls hadn’t just built a fort. They’d taken the time to raid the boys’ rooms. Hung from the ceiling was Frank’s stuffed duck, and Tommy’s special blue blanket. Both had crude notes pinned to them.
The notes said “You”.
Brittany and Jill had launched their opening salvo. They intended to win the psychological war.

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