Miss Willow rose in leisurely fashion from her desk, nibbling as she stood on a rosewater and ashwaganda macaron. It was one of several that she had surreptitiously removed from Maknae Vivi’s desk to ascertain whether or not it was, in fact, a kami, an aboriginal spirit being, or some sort of Mexican, Central American, or South American shape-shifting creature.
She had just finished reading the latest edition of Tlālōcān Weekly, noting with interest that the Aztec Rain God’s fan magazine had started a recipe page. She was considering sending in her recipe for Vegan Carrot Bacon since so many of his fans were, ironically, non-meat eaters. She was also considering sending in a note for the “Letters to the Editor” section.
To Whom Or (More Precisely) To What It May Concern:
I was told recently that the Azores island chain has been moved from lying off the coast of Brazil to lying off the coast of Portugal. I believe someone on your staff needs to upgrade the free map of the world that comes with magazine subscriptions.
I am of, of course, referring to the lovely example of cartography displaying the hand-lettered caption covering the Antipodes that says, "Here be dragons."
I assume someone on your staff has been the tiniest bit remiss in failing to update said map which I placed on display in the lobby of my workplace only last week.
I remain ever a fan of birds with brains.
“I think,” she said, “that Fate has intervened yet again in the fortunes of our tiny but winsome enterprise. You can thank me with the appropriate emoluments later, but my latest text from my good friend Yoon Shi Yoon–”
“YOU WISH!” chorused several indignant voices.
“See for yourselves,” said Miss Willow, holding out her smart phone. “My good and DEAR friend–I call him Yoonie–has reminded me of his love of comedy and of one K-drama in which his character goes to Japan to participate in a world-wide culinary competition. He might successfully play Haruto.”
One of the shrimp kami sailing by on a paper airplane said in its bell-like voice. “No, that was China his character visited.” Miss Willow bowed her head slightly. “Arigato.” She peered at her smartphone. “Obiously Yoonie was in a hurry with his text. Being the head Dimple Instuctor at the University of Hotness must be a terrible burden for him at times.”
“Ooh, that could work,” chorused several Hottie-besotted voices.
“And would anyone object if I mentioned that another good friend of mine, Hani, has texted that she would be available, if the scheduling works out, to fill the role of Ha-Neul?”
“That could work,” crackled OSPD-im’s voice over the office intercom. “Can I come inside yet?”
The hapless head of Badger Productions had been teleported into the back parking lot when Niles the koala lost a round of Go-stop with the shrimp kami (who were now folding the cards into sturdy little airplanes and flying themselves all over the office). Niles had insufficiently failed to control his annoyance, and OSPD-nim had ended up in his own parking space.
“You can come back inside once our office luncheon has arrived and been paid for.”
“Fine, whatever. It’s starting to rain. My bespoke track suit is getting wet!”
“Very well,” said Miss Willow. “Niles, can you un-tele–”
“No, I cannot,” came the tearful reply. “I’m having a bad day. I can’t concentrate. I need more eucalyptus pesto! Why me?”
“I know,” whispered Miss Willow, walking over to Niles who was slumped dejectedly in OSPD-nim’s chair. She patted him gently on one ear. “That’s how OSPD-nim makes us all feel, but we get over it.”