Kiss, suddenly alive
Happiness arrive
Hunger like a storm
How do I begin?
A room within a room
A door behind a door
Touch, where do you lead?
I need something more
Tell me what you see
I need something more
The hours waiting for closing time were some of the longest in SpongeBob's life. With barely any customers and all cleaning finished, there was nothing to do except wait for time to pass. A few times, he could've sworn the minute hand on the clock went backwards instead of forward.
Once the doors to the Krusty Krab were locked and he was free to go, SpongeBob skipped down the road, holding PorFlora's book in his arms and wearing a smile. She left it behind, and what kind of friend would he be if he didn't bring it to her?
He nearly dropped it the first time he picked it up from how heavy it is. Leather bound in pink with gilt edging and gold hardware on the corners, a real fancy looking book, but with no title. Something this fancy might be her diary, so he kept it shut and didn't dare take a peek inside.
As his pineapple came into sight, so did the grey RV parked on the edge of the street. His smile widened; she decided to take his offer after all! That's great! He saw the lights inside through the windows, and a shadow moving inside.
"My new friend."
That felt nice to say again.
Reaching the door, SpongeBob shifted his hold on the book and knocked, rocking on the heels of his feet.
"Coming! Just a second!" He heard PorFlora call from inside. A few rushed footsteps later, and the door opened. Inside, she stood a bit higher than him on the steps. "Hi!"
"Hi again." He handed the book to her. "You left your book behind."
"Oh, thank you! I can't believe I left my favorite book behind. Do you wanna come in? It's a little messy, but I have leftover pizza."
"I'd love to."
PorFlora pressed a button on the side of the door, lowering a small set of stairs to let him inside.
First step in and directly across from the door was a small couch, with access to the drivers seat to the right. On the left was a small dining nook, and across from that was the kitchen, a counter with a built in sink, stove, oven, and fridge. Further back, he saw what looked like a bedroom and bathroom.
It was messy, some books laid about, piles of papers here and there, a few cabinets halfway open or so full they barely closed, and a sick almost full of dishes. Messy, but not dirty. And underneath it, he still saw the colorful decorations that reminded him of how Pearl decorated the Krusty Krab during her brief time working there.
"Sorry, I starting cleaning and sorting through stuff, but you know how things get messier before they get cleaner?" She asked.
"Oh yeah, happens to me all the time," SpongeBob said, waving off her worry. "It's like an apartment in here!"
"Cool, huh? No matter where I go, I have all the comforts of home. And the mess of one." A ding from the oven interrupted their conversation. "Pizza's warmed up, do you like cheese or pepperoni?"
. . .
The two Sponges sat together in the dining nook after moving the papers and books to the couch. They sat face to face, one hand free to eat pizza, and the other holding each others hand. Pizza always tasted better the day after, and with that warm, fuzzy feeling from early tingling from their hands made for a nice and cozy dinner.
Despite all the food he's been making, SpongeBob ate most of it alone, except during those days when a few of his family members visited to check up on him. Good food always tastes better when eating with good company.
"If you're here on vacation, then what's your job?" SpongeBob asks between bites.
"I'm a travelling botanist. I travel around to different places and study the flowers and fauna there," PorFlora explained. "My boss is a real shut in, so I'm on a team of people go out and do the research for him and send back what we find."
"Gee, that sounds like a lot of fun!"
"It is! I love flowers, and I get to see all kinds. I only wish I could keep a potted plant alive to bring one of them with me, but oh well." She opened the window right above the table, letting in a light breeze. "There's so many different kinds of flowers, and you can use them for much, like medicine and tea, you can even eat some of them, did you know that? I haven't cooked with any of them because I'm not a good cook at all, but I'm sure they taste great."
Hearing her speak with such excitement and enthusiasm, it's like looking in the mirror. That passion for that one thing you like doing the most, that zest for life that their kind were notorious for. It's contagious, ad it tore down those walls that popped up around him since the fateful night.
PorFlora squeezed his hand. "I take it you're a fry cook?"
"I sure am."
"Do you like it?"
The answer to that used to be an instant yes, but now. . .
". . .I don't know anymore. Cooking isn't the problem! The Krusty Krab feels like a different place these days," he said. "I love cooking, it's really fun! Trying new things, mixing and matching, learning new recipes, then adding your own twist on things, finding out what works and what doesn't, and getting a dish down perfectly, there's nothing like it."
"Can I try your food? I can barely make a grilled cheese without burning it, and the way you talk about cooking makes your food sound super yummy."
"Sure, I'd love to cook you something. Tomorrows my day off, how about you come over and i'll make you the best breakfast you've ever had!"
"I'd like that a lot." PorFlora smiled, and SpongeBob felt her shoes tap against his as she swung her legs under the table. "Having a friend is great. I'm glad my first friend is another Sponge. It gets lonely being the only one around, you know?"
"Oh yeah, I know." Boy did he ever. It wasn't a thought that popped up often before he got sick, but there were still moments when it crept up. Being the only Sponge in the middle of Bikini Bottom, it was lonely at times. "Do you miss your family with how much your job makes you travel?"
PorFlora hummed. "No. To be honest, I don't think about much these days," she admitted. "What's your family like?"
"Huge! I can barely keep up with everyone in it. I'm an only child, but I have a whole bunch of aunts, uncles, and a ton of cousins. We're all super close and always ready to help each other."
As the two of them talked and finished off the last of the pizza, their hands stayed clasped together. Turns out the book he returned was filled with fairy tales, PorFloras favorites kinds of stories, and SpongeBob told her about his library and welcomed her to come and read any book in there she liked. He told her that he did his best to make those fried oyster skins as tasty as he could in hopes that she'd keep coming back to the Krusty Krab, but he can make them much better at home. He shared his love and passion of jellyfishing as she listened in awe of how brave he was to be around such scary creatures. She shared how every bit of decoration in her RV was either handmade or customized, and maybe he could help her add something to it.
The more they talked, the sillier SpongeBob felt for worrying about chasing her away.
"It's getting late. We've been talking for hours," PorFlora said. "You're fun and easy to talk to."
"You're fun to talk to, too. But you probably want to get some sleep."
"Yeah, but I don't want to let go your hand. It's nice holding hands with you.
And he felt the same way. This simple gesture was doing wonders for his touch starvation, and he wasn't in any hurry for it to come back once they let go.
But did it have to?
"I have an idea!" Spongebob leaned over and whispered hi idea in her ear. With each word, her smile grew.
"You're a genius! I'll grab what I can and meet you in your house." After standing, they moved in opposite directions, but were stopped by their hands and fingers still intertwined. "It'll only be for a little bit."
"Then we can hold hands again."
They counted down, 3, 2, 1, and let go.
. . .
They had to be quick.
PorFlora went further into her RV, while SpongeBob headed inside his house. A loud meow from Gary greeted him as soon as he opened the door; he hadn't stopped by to give the snail his dinner. He quickly made up Gary's dinner before rushing upstairs with a mission. All the cushions from his library, the middle mattress from his bed, sheets, blankets, and cushions from the linen closet, he gathered them all up and tossed them downstairs and into the living room. A quick change into his PJs, and he leaped downstairs, landing on the push pile at the bottom.
"A little help, please!"
PorFlora, now in an oversized tye dye tshirt and bonnet, stood at the front door, struggling to pull her own collection of pillows, blankets, and cushions. Spongebob hurried over and halped before she ended up falling backwards.
"Thank you. I probably should've made two trips," said PorFlora. "Is this enough? I haven't made a pillow fort in a long time."
"Yep, this is plenty! And it's going to be the best pillow fort ever!"
The perfect pillow fort starts with a good solid base. The firmest pieces, half being his mattress, and the other half being the bottom of his couch made up the bottom, covered by two sheets and a thin blanket for softness. A few smaller, but still firm cushions were placed around the edge and also covered, for a nice cozy effect. A few chairs from the kitchen were used to drape sheets and fairy lights for added ambiance. Then the final touch, carefully arranging the remaining cushions and blankets – and voila!
"The perfect pillow fort!" SpongeBob said, complete with jazz hands. "Perfect for playing and sleepovers. We did I a good job, if I do say so myself."
"It beautiful." PorFlora clapped, her eyes sparkling. "The lights are a nice touch. Shall we go in down?"
"We shall." SpongeBob pulled up a sheet for them to step through. "Ladies first."
"Why thank you." She giggled as she climbed inside, and SpongeBob followed.
The two of them worked their way under the blankets and laid against the pillows after fluffing them up one more time. This couldn't be more perfect; a slumber party with your best friend. He felt her hand slip into his under the blanket, and they both gave a gentle squeeze.
However, it seemed like sleep was avoiding them both. Maybe today was such a good day his brain didn't want it to end yet. It has been quite a day. And tomorrow will be even better! it's been a while since he was this excited for the next day, and it felt good! Now what was he going to make for breakfast in the morning?
"You have scratches on the side of your head." The pillows shifted as PorFlora turned towards him. " They look really sore. Do you have allergies?"
"I guess it can be called an allergy. Sometimes when I'm around the people here, I feel uncomfortable and scratch. It's not my skin that's itchy, it's my brain," he explained. "I probably sound crazy."
"I don't think you sound crazy at all, Spongebob," she said. "I used to get that feeling, too. Years ago, after I got rid of the flowers I kept coughing up, now THAT sounds crazy."
What sleepiness was starting to reach him left his spongey body when she said that. He turned over and faced her. Sleep can wait.
". . .You coughed up flowers, too?"
"It was the oddest thing. I thought I was going nuts when it happened. The way doctor described, it sounded like something out of one of my fairytales." PorFlora sighed, her eyes focused on their hands. Then, her expression changed from relaxed to realizzation. "Wait, you said 'too'. Did that happen to you? You also had Hanahaki disease?
SpongeBob nodded. "It happened a couple months ago. It was scary, I didn't know what was going on," he whispered. "What are the odds we both had it?"
"Yeah, what are the odds." The two of them shared a solemn smile. As much as SpongeBob was happy to met someone who's been through what he has, he could only imagine what lead to her catching it. "It's really late. We should probably get some sleep. But. . .we can talk about it some more tomorrow, right?"
"Right," he whispered, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Good night."
"Good night."
As he slowly started to wake up, the first thing SpongeBob noticed was how peaceful his sleep was. Free of nightmares, and he had really good dreams, too. Sure, none of them made sense, but they didn't have to; they were fun.
The second thing he noticed was the faint scent of bubble gum. Opening his eyes, as his vision cleared, he say that during the night the two of them moved closer.
The scallops chirped right outside the window, so it had to be morning. Good thing he turned his alarm clock off last night. He might've needed it to wake up in the morning, but he had a guest. PorFlora slept soundly next to him, didn't want to give her a heart attack.
Carefully, he slipped out of their cuddle and from under the blankets, careful of his movements to not wake her.
"Don't go," PorFlora mumbled groggily. So much for that idea. Oh well. "You're so warm."
"But I have to make breakfast, remember?"
"Okay, okay." She yawned and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "I'll straighten up in here. Make sure it's extra yummy, okay?"
SpongeBob gave a thumbs up. "You've got it."
Time for breakfast, and he knows the perfect breakfast to start the day. It came to him in one of his many dreams.
In one pan, start with olive oil, one chopped onion, one bell pepper, some garlic, and let that cook for a few minutes. A little tomato paste, paprika, chili flakes, salt, pepper, and chopped tomatos, and let that cook for a couple of minutes. Then add tomato paste, fresh, homemade, from his own pantry. Never use canned if he can help it. As that cooked to the right consistency, he got Gary's breakfast ready and out of out the way. Make five dips in the food and crack an egg into each. Cut a few slices of whats left of the bread he baked the other day, and grab the last few slices of pita bread, variety is important! Sprinkle the dish with a bit of feta cheese and DONE.
"The perfect pan of shakshouka." He finished it with a sprinkle of dried basil. "She's gonna love this!"
And then it happened. The knock at the door.
Knowing exactly who was standing behind the front door made SpongeBob sigh and slump over. Patrick was persistent, he'll give him that much. He figured the starfish would have given up by now, but every morning he showed up at his door, with some reason why they should spend time together.
"Breakfast is ready," he said, helping PorFlora out the pillow fort. "I'll be there in a second."
"Hi, Spongebob." Patrick held a Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy in his hands. it's been a while since he tried using that to get his attention, SpongeBob noticed. "There's a Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy marathon on TV today. Do you want to watch it with me?"
"No, Patrick. I'm busy today."
"Who's that?" The starfish looked behind him. SpongeBob glanced back and caught the sight of PorFlora as she disappeared into the kitchen.
"My new friend," SpongeBob said. "It's breakfast time, I have to go."
He closed the door, ending that conversation. It didn't need to go on any longer; the side of his head started to itch again. Patrick will have to give up sooner or later.
In the meantime, there's breakfast to share.
"I have a question."
Not long after breakfast, it started raining hard. A day inside it is then, there's plenty of things to do inside, like cleaning! Cleaning is always fun.
When it came to cleaning, the two of them agreed that two sets of hands were better than one. PorFlora walked through her home, gathering up books and tossing piles of papers she no longer needed, while SpongeBob tackled the pile of dishes in the sink.
"If you don't want to answer, that's okay," PorFlora said, trashing a pile of papers. "Who made you sick?"
He paused in he middle of scrubbing a plate at that question. It's a simple question, it's not that he had to think about the answer. Truth be told, if they weren't in front of him, SpongeBob found that he didn't think about them much. A drastic change from how things used to be, but something he adjusted to pretty fast.
"I'm sorry, that was probably rude to ask," she said.
"No, it's okay." He rinsed off that dish and started on another. "It was my friends. And everyone in Bikini Bottom, but mostly them. I woke up one and everyone was gone. Turns out everyone made a three week holiday to get away from me. That hurt. Then they tried twisting it and said since it's a holiday about me, I should feel happy. Learning they think I'm stupid enough to fall for that hurt, too. I went home, cried myself to sleep, woke up coughing up flowers, and the rest was history."
"Do you still talk to them?"
"Not unless I have to, or when they come to me." Finished with the dishes, he turned off the faucet and leaned against the counter. PorFlora joined him, slipping her hand into his. "They don't like me, some of them hate me, and I'm leaving them alone like they've always wanted, but they keep trying to talk and spend time with me. I don't get it."
"People are confusing," she said. "I'm sorry they did that to you, that was really mean. I don't know what's worst about Hanahaki disease, the symptoms, or what makes you get it in the first place."
"What about you? Who made you sick?"
"My family. It's almost been ten years since it happened, and I don't remember exactly what they said. My parents adopted me when I was super little 'cause they couldn't have their own baby. But they managed to have my brother and sister, and they were a perfect family. I tried to fit in with them, to be as prim and proper as they are, but it wasn't enough. It was never going to be enough, I was never going to be one of them, and whatever they said made me realize that."
"That's horrible! I'm sorry your family treated you like that."
"Thank you." Despite the conversation topic, she shared a smile. "It was a long time ago, I don't think about what happened anymore."
He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back. SpongeBob hadn't talked to anyone about exactly what happened that day. He only shared the barest details about it with his parents. As much as they and the rest of his family cared, none of them have gone through it. Sharing with someone who understood what it's like felt like a weight off his shoulders.
"I have something for your scratches." PorFlora slipped out his hand and disappeared into the bathroom. Seconds later, she returned with a small white jar and tossed it to him. "I made it when I scratched my head like that, but still keep a few jars around for when I run into a plant that irritates me. It'll soothe heal those scratches right up!"
"Gee, thanks! What's in it?"
"Aloe, coconut water, and a bit of mint for a nice cooling effect. The scratching stops, eventually. Mine lasted for about a year, if that helps."
"That's nice to know. Sometimes I think I'm going to scratch all the way through my head," he joked. "Do you ever regret having the flowers removed?"
"No. I knew as soon as the doctor told me the option that I wanted them taken out," PorFlora said. She moved to the pile of books on the dinner and began sorting through them. "I kept trying to fit in with them, but I was so tired of trying. If anything, getting the flowers removed was a relief and a way out. Besides, my family never loved me, They weren't going to suddenly care now. Help me carry these books to the back, please?"
PorFlora grabbed one stack of books, SpongeBob grabbed the other, and followed her into her bedroom into the back.
"Do you regret it?"
"No, I think it's better like this, too. My doctor said I had 72 hours to decide, and I thought about telling everyone, but I was so angry and sad after learning what they actually think of me, I didn't want to be around or talk to them," he said, handed her books as she put them away. "It hurt, more than anything I've ever felt before. I figured if I got rid of the flowers and didn't love them, I'd stop bothering them and they'd be happy. But now, I just want them to stop acting that they care, they don't have to keep pretending."
"What rotten luck for the both of us, huh? Being around people like that," said PorFlora. Putting the last book away, she closed the cabinet. "This conversations' been kinda heavy, but it's nice to have someone to talk to someone who understands."
SpongeBob nodded. "It is. But lets lighten the mood. Can I turn on your radio?"
"Sure, go ahead."
The two Sponges walked back into the kitchen. He turned on the pink radio sitting in the window. Some music would lift their moods right away, it's just what they needed. After turning the knobs, he stopped at an upbeat and energetic song. Working to music always made the task go by faster. He took a broom in his hands, and she took a duster in hers. Together, the worked in unison to finish making this place spic and span.
"I have another question."
It's a slow day at the Krusty Krab. Only a few customer came in each hour, leaving time to pass at a snails pace. The only thing SpongeBob had to look forward to was the lunch he packed, but around 11 o'clock, he realize he left it behind in his rush out the door. Lucky for him, he had someone looking out for him, and PorFlora came in an hour later, carrying the brown paper bag he packed.
With no customers to cook for, SpongeBob invited her into the kitchen. Sitting on a couple of barrels, they shared the beef dolmas he made.
"You said before that most sponges live far away, in our own kingdom," PorFlora said between bites.
"That's right."
"How come?"
. . .
Oh, that's a dozy of a question. The answer was an unspoken fact for Sponges, especially for the ones who live outside the Porforian kingdom, but of course PorFlora wouldn't know. How can he explain it to her without making her cry?
He finished the dolmas he was eating. Maybe it's better to rip the band-aid off all at once instead of sugarcoating it. That's how things have been going with him lately. Besides, good friends tell each other the truth, after all.
"Other sea creatures don't like us very much," he said. "Us Sponges, we're loud, excitable, overly friendly people who wear our hearts on our sleeves and have more energy than they can stand being around. They'll put up with us in small amounts, mostly for their own benefit, but any more that and other sea creatures don't want us around. To them, how we behave is unpredictable, how we show emotions is melodramatic, our actions are destructive, we're annoying in every way they can think off. We're not doing it on purpose, that's just how we are, we can't help it."
Spongebob looked over, and like he worried, PorFlora sobbed with tears in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry-"
"That's normal," she interrupted. "For us, to be loud and over the top and for others to avoid us, that's normal?"
He nodded. "That's right."
"That's, ah, that's wonderful to know. Everyone made me feel so weird growing up, but I'm not weird, I'm normal." She wiped her eyes and chuckled. "It's so nice to know I'm normal."
. . .
Oh.
That's right.
By Sponges standards, he's completely normal. Run-of-the-mill, easy to lose in a crowd, average.
Living here for so long, with his eccentricities contrasting sharply with everyone around him, making him stick out like a sore thumb and repelling everyone including the ones he thought were friends, he had forgotten that, and being the weird one became the new normal.
But he's not weird at all.
"Yep, it's normal. We're normal." Explaining it like any other fact is one thing, but saying it felt like a healing balm on his heart.
There's nothing wrong with him.
Nothing was ever wrong with him.
Just because everyone here in Bikini Bottom saw him as an oddity to be avoided, there was still somewhere in the ocean where everything about him, inside and out, is the norm.
"You're crying." PorFlora searched through her pockets for a tissue.
"Thank you," he said, wiping his tears. He looked at the ticket spindle and saw an order slip. Hopefully that hasn't been there for too long. He hoped out of his seat and pulled it down. A triple patty deluxe, only a handful of customers ordered on of those, including. . .yep.
Peaking out the kitchen, he saw Patrick sitting in the dining room. There's no long line of customers he had to get through, there's no reason he has to be the one to deliver his order.
"Does it ever get easier being around the people who make you sick?" SpongeBob asked, grabbing a plate. "Or will it always be uncomfortable?"
"I don't know. I haven't been back home and around them since I left all those years ago," said PorFlora. "I wish I could answer your question, but I can't."
"That's okay."
After plating the order, SpongeBob placed it in the window and rang the bell. There weren't any more customers, thank goodness.
"Aren't you going to deliver it?" Squidward asked through the window.
"Not today," he sighed, stepping away from the grill. If only the order window could be shut.
Why'd they have to come on today of all days? Today went from okay, the crummy, to pretty good, and now that they two of them showed up, they were making it crummy again. All he can hope for is that they two of them didn't come back here. He can handle working with his neighbor and boss with al wall between him and them, and Patrick never stayed longer than 30 minutes he was easy enough to ignore on busier days, but all four of them were here, at once.
Barnacles, it's starting to happen again. The prickling sensation creeping from his fingers, up his arms, and into the rest of his body. Each of his pores burning as water filtered through him.
"Can you hold my hand? Please?"
With his eyes closed tight, he only heard PorFloras footsteps as she got closer.
"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"
"The worst ever," he wheezed. The tears pooling in his might as well be jagged pieces of glass. "But holding hands helps."
Another hand in his didn't come. Instead, she pulled him into a warm embrace.
"If holding hands helps, then a hug is even better, right?" She asked.
"Uh-huh. Thank you." He wrapped his arms around her, too.
"Of course. Friends help each other," She said, patting his back. "Are you feeling better?"
"I'm starting to." Slowly but steady, the pain started to ebb away. Like each time before as the pain left, tiredness took its place. A nap sounded good right about now.
No new orders in the window.
It didn't look like things were going to pick up anymore today.
He decided to call it an early day. The other two could handle things, and if not, then he's deal with the aftermath later. It's hard to care about this place right now. After turning off the grill, they left out the back door. The short walk home was hand in hand and in silence. As soon at they stepped through the door, they kicked off their shoes and crawled into their pillow fort.
Under the blanket, on the perfectly fluffed pillows, the two Sponges dozed off, hidden away from the rest of the world.
"Are you sure they won't sting me?"
"I'm positive."
Hand in hand, SpongeBob lead the way into jellyfish fields. Coming here wasn't the plan for the day. They both wanted to go to the park, but it was packed. They tried the beach, but it was full of people trying to enjoy the surprisingly warm fall day.
"There's a few." He pointed to a small gathering of jellyfish hovering over a patch of flowers, then whistled to get their attention. As they started floating over, PorFlora let go of his hand and hid behind him, using his square body as a shield.
"It'll be okay," he whispered. "Hi, guys! I made a new friend, and I want you to meet her. But she's afraid of jellyfish. I promise she won't hurt you, so please don't sting her." Their light buzzing was neither a yes or a no. "What if I gave you these?" He searched his pockets until he found it, a small bag of that candy he failed at making. Their buzzing changed from light, indifferent, to energetic, with a few popping zaps here and there, happy.
After giving each jellyfish a piece, SpongeBob reached for the closest one. It settled down in his hands, wiggling it's tentacles between his fingers.
"How can you hold it like that?" PorFlora asked, eyes wide in amazement. "Aren't you scared it might sting you?"
"Nah, they know and trust me. I've caught every jellyfish in this field at least once, and their stings barely hurt me anymore," SpongeBob explained. "Go ahead, you can pet it."
She strummed her fingers together, eyeing the pink creature. Mustering up the courage, she reached out, flinched, and reached out again, until her hand touched it's soft, squishy head. It rumbled in satisfaction as she gently pet it. Seeing her fear melt away, Spongebob smiled, and so did she.
"Okay, maybe all jellyfish aren't scary," she admitted.
"See? I told you."
"These look different than the jellyfish in my hometown."
"What did they look like?"
"Yellow, with green spots. And a crest on their head, like a mohawk, and their tentacles were more like a zigzag."
"That sounds like a Yellow Crested Striker. I don't blame you for being afraid of them, they have a real nasty sting and poison, too. ," he said. "These guys can only sting. Yellow Crested Strikers are super aggressive, and I hear they hold grudges, but as long as you don't annoy or hurt these guys, they'll leave you alone."
The two Sponges sat on the grass as more jellyfishes floated over. They passed out pieces of candy, enjoying their presence. Some settled on SpongeBob's head, while a few cuddled on PorFlora's lap.
"Do we have our own language?" Asked PorFlora.
"Uh-huh. We have lots of languages, since the Porforian kingdom is a huge place," SpongeBob said. "The most common one is Bubblacan, but I haven't spoken it since my family moved here, and I only remember how to write my name."
"Can you write it for me? It sounds pretty!"
In a patch of sand, SpongeBob used his finger to write out his name. it took a minute to remember the details since there's no reason for him to write it this way.
He started with one large circle, as most words do. Inside he drew two more semi circles, one inside the other. A bunch of small circles touching and overlapping the edges, one long line going through the middle diagonally, and two smaller lines going through the smaller circles.
"There. I think that's it," said SpongeBob. "It's been so long since I've written it, so I might be wrong here and there."
"Oooh, wow. It looks like bubbles." PorFlora traced her fingers over the writing. "Can you write my name, too?"
"I wish I could, but my name is all I remember. I'm really rusty on it," He admitted. "Oh, I have an idea!"
"Huh?"
SpongeBob can't believe he didn't think about his before. "I haven't spoken or written in Bubblacian in a long time, but I have family who do! We're having a family dinner week you should come and join us."
"That sounds fun, but I won't want to intrude."
"You won't be, the more the merrier," he said. "C'mon, I'd hate to know you're here by yourself when there's a whole family of Sponges who'd love to meet you."
"I don't know. . . "
"You'll get to eat a lot of my food," he tempted. That had to do it, she even said that eating his food was her favorite part of the day. "The guys and ladies take turns cooking each family dinner, it's the guys turn this time, and I'm leading it. All the recipes are mine. It'd be a shame if you missed out on tasting all that food. But if you really don't want to go. . ."
"Well, it would be rude to decline a dinner invitation from a friend," PorFlora said. The jellyfish in her lap flew away and was replaced with another. "Okay, I'll come."
"Great!" he reached over and draped and arm around her shoulders. "It'll be fun, I promise. What's your favorite dessert, I'll make sure we have it."
The two of them stayed in jellyfish fields for a few more hours. Jellyfish came and went, wanting their attention as they talked and laughed. When the sunset came and went, the two of them called it a day as the jellyfish flew away to their nests for the night. Their talk continued as they walked back home.