"You have until the water's gone," said her Auntie Maisie, pulling the plug. "Then out, out, out."
"Alright," sulked Gemma, sitting back up and grabbing the plastic jugs. She began to pour water from one to the next, the sound like feet shuffling along gravel. Ssccchhhht. Ssccchhhht. "The water's going, Auntie Maisie."
"That's right," she agreed. "Do you know where?"
Gemma looked up, a confused expression on her face. "Under, ground?"
"Almost. The house is thirsty."
"Oh," smiled Gemma. Picking up the plastic toy duck, she squeezed it under the water and then let it enlarge again, sssucking the water in. "Look. Duck is thirsty too," she laughed.
"That's right, sweetheart. Just like the duck." Auntie Maisie hovered, and began to twist the towel she was holding between her hands. The water circling the drain began to gurgle like the last dregs of coke at the bottom of a straw.
"All gone," said Gemma, standing as the last bit of water began pulling, pulling towards the drain. Pulling, almost sucking around her tiny feet. She could feel a tugging sensation, like octopus feelers clamping to her skin.
"And now the house is hungry," said Auntie Maisie, watching as Gemma's legs were upended by the almost tidal pull towards the now gaping mouth.
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