Paul was afraid of taking baths. He remembered what had happened to the Wicked Witch when her green flesh met water. His green skin wouldn’t like it either.
His parents began to get offended by his body odor.
“You must bathe, Paul,” his father roared. That night, Paul had no choice.
He prepared the water, dipped in a toe.
His body liquefied and he shrieked. As a patch of algae, he floated. Once bored, he stretched and stood again as a boy, greenness left behind. Not so bad, he thought. Maybe he’d to it again, when he was green again.
Author’s Note: I was influenced by the Wizard of Oz with this one. What if the witch wasn’t permanently green and just had an inversion to baths. I paired this thought with a young boy’s similar sentiments toward water.
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