Tag Archives: Christina Mølholm

Sunglasses and Rubber Boots

I sat on the park bench reading, and she came up and sat next to me. I probably wouldn’t have noticed her if it were not for the rubber boots shooting into my peripheral view as I looked down at the novel.

They were bright blue, but that wasn’t what attracted my attention. I looked up at the shining sun and had to shield my eyes from it, even with my dark sunglasses on. It was a scorcher, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

I looked over at her and smiled, she smiled back, but I couldn’t see her eyes through her dark aviators. She looked to be about twenty, wore a bright white and blue print dress and had nice legs. She had a vintage umbrella propped up against the bench next to her, and a little plaid satchel out of which she pulled a sandwich and an apple.

I tried to focus on my book but could not. Why the rubber boots? It was a perfect day, a bright blue cloudless sky backing up my thoughts as I looked around to see the other people in the park going about their busy lives. Not a single one carried an umbrella or wore boots; as a matter of fact none were prepared for any sort of rain at all.

I wanted to ask her, and was about to when a ringing came from her pocket and she pulled out a cell phone.

“Hello?” she said in a Danish accent, and I decided this was fate, I was not meant to inquire about her footwear. Instead I placed my book back into my messenger bag and went on my way, only to find that five minutes later, a sudden darkened sky opened up and rained down on me and the many other unprepared people on the streets. I pulled into a coffee shop for shelter, and before a minute passed the girl skipped by, dry under her umbrella, her boots protecting her feet from the massive flooding that was taking place, and her sunglasses nowhere to be seen.

Words sunglasses and rubber boots and photograph by Christina  Mølholm of And the Monsters fame.

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Here Comes A Caavy, A Mønster!

Tandfe, created by Christina Mølhom

Tandfe, created by Christina Mølhom

The caavy, commonly known and often mistaken as a tooth fairy, lives in the mouths of human beings, finding nourishment from small chunks of tooth (usually slathered in sugar) that they dig out using their small claws, of which they have one on each hand. Caavies are known for violent territoriality and an obsession with sugar.

Tandfe awoke from his slumber and emerged from behind the tonsil, stretching his arms as far as they would go and performing his evening breathing exercises. He knew from the breathing patterns of his host that it was asleep and the growl of Tandfe’s stomach reminded him it was time to eat. He sharpened the single claw on each hand against his pointy teeth and climbed up the soft cave to the mouth of his home.

Tonight would be a feast! Once again Tandfe’s host skipped the evening cleaning ritual of his oral cavity that it’s parental figure was always complaining about (Tandfe often woke up early enough to see his host simply wet his cleaning utensil, called a ‘toothbrush’, under a faucet and then place it on the counter). Tonight there was sugar a-plenty covering the chewing mechanisms that he feasted upon every evening. He smiled, showing off his full set of incisors as he scraped a tiny piece of enamel off a nearby tooth, tasted it and smiled with delight.

He scraped a bit more and sat down to reminisce, as he always did over dinner. He remembered growing up in the piles of crystallized sugar, being hatched and raised by his mama. He was taught to fend for himself and then was whisked off on a stick when the sugar was made into rock candy. Tandfe ended up going from there to this child’s mouth, where he made his home.

He got up and walked over to the nearest tooth and cut another chunk out, noticing that this one was starting to turn a little black around the edges. He knew this meant to leave it alone, or that horrible human they called dentist would come with all of the loud machinery and scraping tools, forcing Tandfe into hiding in that dark smelly spot to the south of the tonsil.

He also noticed another tooth was loose, and knew to dig into that one as much as possible. Humans, unlike caavies, lost some of their teeth as children; it wouldn’t matter how much he ate, so he attacked it. Soon, it would fall out, and he would eat the whole tooth in a night. He always loved those nights, stealing the baby tooth from under his host’s pillow – the only downside being that he had no pockets and always lost any loose change he was carrying.

As he reminisced and planned for his next out-of-body adventure, he noticed the breathing patterns of the host start to change, and knew it was time to go back into hiding, so he jumped up, scraped a little more food and shoved it into his mouth.  He ran back to the tonsil, climbing back up into his hiding place and closing his eyes for another day of rest.

Artwork by the amazing Christina Mølholm, whose blog can be seen here.