kimmy

i live in a 4 person apartment. 2 bed rooms. 2 bathrooms. 4 beds. somehow, we ended up with 5 tenants. me, my three roommates, and kimberly.

kimberly is an odd ball. she doesn't sleep here. she doesn't eat here. she doesn't keep her possessions here. (in fact, i'm pretty sure she doesn't have any possessions). she doesn't watch the tv, sit on the couch, drink the water, or read the books. she doesn't walk on our floor or use our shower.

no, kimberly has one purpose and one purpose only. she is the strange force that turns off lights. light. one. the kitchen light.

about two or three times a day, kimberly decides that she is tired of our kitchen light being on, and with a high pitched click, off it goes. it will eventually come back on, but in kimberly's time period. we have no say in the matter. no matter how much we beg and plead, scold and scorn, kimberly takes her sweet time.

we're not sure why kimberly turns the light off. maybe the brightness hurts her "eyes," (that's in quotation marks because i'm not actually sure kimberly has eyes) maybe it keeps her awake, maybe she's punishing us for our elaborate dance parties, maybe she just likes to hear us say her name (which we make a point to only say when the light turns off), maybe she's vendictive.

maybe she just thinks we leave too many lights on.