They wore pronouns like they wore their clothes, but that was okay. My wife Daisy had come round to it. In fact, Elena gave Daisy the job to organize the house party. Daisy was ecstatic. Elena asked her which pronouns they should wear with their dress. It was a sexy, meshy red number. Not they, my wife said, but I think Daisy is still a little Queer-phobic.
I looked on, a little bored. Moments ago, my brother-in-law (husband of my sister) had been doing an 8000 piece puzzle on the floor. I wondered around the communal living room, stopping in front of the fishtank filled with goldfish. There was something unusual about the fish. They were somewhat out of shape, as if they had been forced into moulds too small for them when they were made.
A little like all of us.
Centre of the Web 