So one time, I crushed Olive. Not to death, just kind of smooshed up into a ball. I realized what I was doing and set her free, so she was ok.
It happened on a Sunday afternoon when I was organizing my comic collection, the manliest hobby ever. If you’re a collector at all, you’re probably all too familiar with the long white boxes the comics go in and I was using the version where a smaller box slides into a larger box so it works like a drawer. What do you even call those? I’ll call them “sadness drawers.”
As I was sliding a sadness drawer into place, it suddenly stopped. I wasn’t sure what was causing the problem, so I gave the sadness drawer a nudge. And then another. And then I suddenly remembered that Olive loves to hang out in boxes and I’m slowly killing her.
Sure, she ended up okay although she did give me that “why would you try to kill me like that?” stare before scurrying off to safety. And it totally reminded me of the trash compactor scene from Star Wars.
