Demetrius was cleaning the inside of the toilet bowl. He may have been doing this for a few minutes, or a few hours. He often lost track of himself while he was cleaning, and no one else was keeping track of him either. All he knew for sure was that once he finished this one, and the rest of the toilets on this floor, it would be time for lunch.
He laid his pumice stone down, and with the back of his forearm wiped the sweat from his brow. His black hair stood up in an embarrassing cowlick from his forehead, and every time he passed a mirror, he would hurriedly try to comb it back down. It never looked proper, but he had never given it much thought. No one looked at him much anyway. He was awkward and gangly, having grown almost a foot in the past two years. He rarely left the gloomy hallways and dark bathrooms in the University during the day, and his sallow skin reflected his habits. His owlish eyes and uncomfortable nature had made sure he never received any compliments on his appearance. That matter was helped by the fact that he rarely spoke to anyone at all.
With the air of a true professional he examined his work, and decided that it was satisfactory. Or at least good enough for the University. The plumbing had been installed many years ago, and was burnished by daily cleaning but forever bore the residue of frequent use. Add to that the sometimes magical components in the diet of some of the students and faculty, and the facility was a map of stains. It had not been refinished in all the years Demetrius had been cleaning at the University. He assumed, accurately, that it had not been refinished since it was originally installed.
Demetrius had been with the University since he was very young. He enjoyed the privacy of his job, and took a strange sort of pride in his anonymity. He knew that many of the students his age that walked the halls did so with minds full of worry and fear. Fear of failing this exam, worry about what a girl or a boy may or may not have said about them. Demetrius could not wrap his mind around these things. In the years before he’d come to land upon the doorstep of the University his mind had been filled with actual fear and worry. Fear for his life. Worry about where his next meal was coming from. For the past ten years of his life, the University had fed, clothed and sheltered him and he was endlessly grateful.
He gathered the tools of his trade, and left the stall, preparing to move onto cleaning the next one. His thoughts often wandered as he cleaned. His eyes and his hands were connected bypassing his mind and granting it license to drift as it would amongst a sea of memories and daydreams. He was scanning the familiar map of stains he saw everyday for one that was out of place when he noticed faint flashes of light reflecting off of the surfaces. A vague anxiety made from the fear of having to speak to an interloper began to surface in the sea of thoughts. Surreptitiously he glanced around the room, searching for the person that would interrupt his daily routine and thereby ruin his morning.
There was no one however. The room was exactly as it should be. Empty. Everyone was in class at this time of day. Relief began to blossom in his heart, and immediately disappeared when he noticed that the flashing had not stopped. Worse than that, he had discovered the source of the flashing. It was from the center wash basin on the wall, and in his experience flashing lights did not come from sinks. That meant that perhaps there was some sort of magic. A device, or the remnants of a spell that someone had tried to dispose of hastily in the bathroom. It definitely would not be the first time for that, Demetrius had seen lots of strange things in his years at the University. In his opinion, the worst thing about discovering a strange thing meant that he would have to have a conversation with someone.
Cautiously he crossed the room. He peered over the edge of the sink. He screamed. It was not the quick intake of breath something startling happened kind of scream. It was a long drawn out, high pitched, really putting his heart into it scream. He stumbled backwards, and almost fell on the floor before he righted himself. He felt his body flood with adrenaline, and the taste of copper filled his mouth. Breathe, he told himself realizing that he was holding his breath. Slowly he began to let his muscles relax.
What Demetrius had seen when he looked into the sink was a miniscule woman taking a bath in the pit of one half of an avocado. The fact that Demetrius had never before seen an avocado was not why he had screamed. Nor was it the fact that he had never seen a naked woman before. Fortunately for both parties she was mostly submerged under the water, with only her hands and her head showing. He committed this image to memory to make sure that when he looked again and it was not what he had seen before, he could be sure.
Summoning some secret reserve of courage that he had been previously unaware, he approached the sink. Before he could look over the edge again, he heard the tiniest voice speak. “Turn around silly, I have to get dressed!”
Obediently he turned around and faced the wall. He realized that he was taking orders from what was either some sort of conjured illusion or a demon. He scowled at the wall, and noticed that there was a spot on it that he would need to clean. He made a mental note of it.
“Ok, you can look now! Help me pick out something cute to wear!” The tiny voice spoke from the sink again, and Demetrius turned around and peered over the edge. It was obviously either a faculty member's work or that of one of the grad students. He’d never seen a corporeal illusion that had its own autonomy.
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There was no longer an avocado, in its place there was a bureau that was about as tall as his thumb. He dumbly reached his hand out to touch the woman, thought better of it, and poked the bureau. Knocking it over in the process.
“O. M. G. Are you cereal right now!?” The tiny woman shouted, and took flight from the sink. She hovered directly in front of his face. “Stand it back up! Right this instant!”
It was now that she was hovering so close to his face that Demetrius was able to fully take in the details. He took in a great many details now, not the least of which was that the woman had no proper clothes on. She was brown as a nut, bordering on orange. Her hair was silky and loose and the color of a buttercup. She looked to him like a wooden doll with its dress off, with tiny bits of lace at her waist and chest. She was also holding an almost-invisible rectangle emphatically up to her mouth. If it was food, she did not make any move to bite it. “I thought you were getting dressed?” The words forced themselves from his mouth seemingly of their own volition.
“I am dressed, silly. Dressed enough for you. Anyway I wear less than this in half the pics of me on Instagram. That’s how you get followers.” He couldn’t be sure, but he thought that she winked as she said this. “Now, fix my dresser, you knocked it over.”
Reflexively he picked up the tiny bureau was that far too small to be used in any dollhouse he had ever seen. Very carefully he attempted to set it on the counter space next to the sink. It was an unfortunately curved surface, and the bureau tumbled into the sink spilling all of its contents on the way.
“You know Demetrius the very things that I find so cute about you are also kind of annoying. But still cute! Just put it back up.” She flew close enough to his face that he felt what could have been her lips on his cheek, before diving into the sink and grabbing one of the garments.
When she flew back to his face holding the apparel up to her chest for him to see, he asked “What exactly do you know about me? How did you know my name, are you a demon? I think you have to tell me if you’re a demon.”
“That’s like saying a cop would have to tell you he’s a cop. Wouldn’t be a very good cop if he did, now would he? I think I saw a meme about that once.” She was holding the piece of clothing up with one hand as she spoke, and he noticed for the first time that she was speaking into the tiny rectangle she held in her hand. “For real though, don’t you think this shirt is totally on fleek?” It was a pink he had only seen on flowers and barely bigger than what she was already wearing.
“So you are a demon? Are you speaking in tongues? Is this the Low Speak? I’ve heard of that.”
“You’re too much! But yeah I think you're right, that shirt’s so last week.” With that she tossed the garment from her hand, and Demetrius’ eyes tried to follow it down, but where it should have been there was nothing. As soon as he looked up again, she was directly in front of his face holding up something green. “What about this one? Should I try it on for you?”
The door opened and shut abruptly, and Demetrius reeled. He turned to see one of the Professors walking in haughtily, robes flowing on the floor, shaking his finger in the air and exclaiming “You’d better get to class young man!” and he cut himself off abruptly. “Demetrius it’s you. I thought I heard people talking in here. Are you alone?”
Demetrius was dumbstruck. In all his years at the University the one thing he had learned to do well besides cleaning was go unnoticed. Now one of the Professors was looking at him expectantly. Worse still was the tiny flying woman giggling right next to his ear. “Tell him that you were practicing speaking in the mirror!” Frantically he thought there’s not even a mirror in here.
Somehow though he began to speak against all his best interests. “I was practicing, uhm, speaking, you know. To myself. For um…” He trailed off. “Yes sir, I’m alone in here.”
“Ahh, now I see! I understand, practicing lines for the young ladies, eh!?” The professor clapped Demetrius on the shoulder, making him flinch away. “I was your age once, you know.” At this the professor wiggled his wild eyebrows knowingly. “Well uh, you’re doing a good job in here! Keep it up lad, but you know... I, erm, need to make use of these facilities. I have a bit of the stage fright myself, if you know what I mean, eh?”
“Yes sir! Good sir! Uhm, thank you sir!” Demetrius spoke hastily grabbing his buckets, and rags and his trusty pumice stone. All the while the tiny woman giggled ferociously in his ear.
After what must have been an eternity or two, they were finally out of the bathroom and into the hall. “Stage fright!” She blurted out between another hysterical fit of laughter. “Need to make use of the facilities!” Demetrius turned his head and looked at the now fully-clothed woman.
“That was terrible of you. Just awful. You, you’re just terrible. Uhm, what do I call you anyway?” Demetrius was now speaking in a very low whisper as he made his way through the halls. He was not going to keep working with this thing nattering nonsense in his ear. He was not in the right frame of mind to keep working. It’s not like anyone would notice either way if he took just one day. She would not last very long without the wizard refreshing the spell anyway.
“Most people call me Cyndy. With two Y’s. But on Instagram it’s CynsoftheFlesh. With a C. And a Y. And no spaces, obviously. Same on Snap, it’s too bad you can’t add me. My Snaps are Fire!” Somehow Demetrius could hear the capital letter in the last word she said.
“Once again, I don’t think I understood very many of those words, but I heard Cyndy, right? With two Y’s?” He was speaking as he was making his way through the halls of the third floor of the University, heading with all the haste he could muster towards one of his favorite hiding places. It sounded like a demonic name, two Y’s together. He turned abruptly down a stairwell into the servants’ passages. When he looked, she was reclining easily on his shoulder poking that thing in front of her face.
“Yep. So where are you taking me? This is kind of like our first date, ya know.”
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