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  • Writer's picturementekau hz. effendi

The Orphanage

Updated: Aug 7, 2023

This advertisement was once ahead of its time. Sores and blisters now sprouted from its linen sheets. The Orphanage stood underneath, soaking up the fumes. Perhaps a solo, unwarranted inspector, Mr. Bainbridge, would have a closer look at it. Otherwise, it was excused as a feast for the eyes of the unsuspecting public.

Trouble travelled with the Orphanage on tiptoes. Twenty-one schoolchildren were annually selected to participate in its imitation of a circus. Their activities were only appropriately inspected during golfing trips, and graded absent-mindedly from virtually any distance. Favouring ignorance, rats and termites flowed freely throughout the mansion’s many undiscovered corridors. The children grew numb to these pesky horrors,

for their greatest fright lay in their tutor, Queen Bee. Every instance of instinctual childish talent sent her nostrils into a buzzing fit, an apocalyptic condition signalling that she would swiftly enact the proper commissions in order to subdue them. Any flowers daring to flutter in her radius spoiled on her watch. Bainbridge recognized the symptoms of these kinds of nukes - he had been present to admire the magnificent radius of Fat Man, Little Boy, and even the little-known Thin Man.

A friendly “hello!” hurled across the stagnant air was the inspector's first attempt at a warning for neglect, until he donned his uniform and dared to improvise an unprompted smack on the face of the door. The flock of the Orphanage remained unbothered by his unconventional methods. Their teacher’s persistent buzzing was the utmost facilitator of suppression. Bainbridge's third tactic involved ascending the stinking sheets, announcing his arrival with a sharp, distracting yelp - alongside a few others to make way for the roaming horrors - and racing for the landline, but he was quickly ousted by the resident Hive, whose collective sting could easily temper an outraged lion.

When Queen Bee wired the mercantile authorities, an unusual chain of events was presented to them in the voice of a pleasant bystander; apparently, she had discovered Mr. Bainbridge sprawled out on infertile soil after venturing to, for some unknown reason, repair the roof of the Orphanage.

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