At last, a hint of summer.
The air smelled less like wet pavement and more like open windows and blooming nonsense.
The hoomin came home, dropped his bag, and expected the usual: judgmental stares from the sofa, or Benno pretending to be a slipper.
But today… something magical.
The balcony doors were open.
And there they were:
Lohe, sprawled across the sunniest tile like a royal nap mat.
Benno, belly up, sunglasses probably invisible but definitely there in spirit.
Hoomin: “Wow. You two look like you’re on vacation.”
Benno (without moving): “We are. Balcony Resort & Spa. Now serving nap all-inclusive.”
Lohe (stretching one toe skyward): “Welcome, peasant. Kindly deliver refreshments to the patio.”
Dinner was requested—and served—on the balcony.
Two bowls.
Two satisfied purrs.
One hoomin shaking his head at the ridiculousness of his life.
But just as the peacefulness hit its peak…
something stirred.
Benno twitched.
Lohe blinked.
A breeze carried a leaf across the floor.
Benno (eyes wide): “…You feel it?”
Lohe (suddenly alert): “…It’s time.”
And then—THE ZOOMIES RETURNED.
Not a warm-up. Not a lazy shuffle.
FULL-BLOWN, HYPERDRIVE-ENGAGED, FURNITURE-DODGING ZOOMIES.
Benno crab-walked across the hallway rug like he was summoning ancient chaos spirits.
Lohe launched off the balcony door frame, did a midair spin, and vanished under the bed only to reappear in the kitchen like a furry glitch.
The hoomin just stood in the doorway, eyes wide, wheezing from laughter.
Hoomin: “You haven’t done this in weeks! I thought you retired!”
Benno (mid-slide): “WE’RE BACK, BABY.”
Lohe (leaping over a shoe rack): “The sun recharges us. We have no regrets.”
One toy mouse flew across the room.
A rug was completely flipped.
A houseplant shook in fear.
Monday evening ends with flying fur, echoing paws, and one hoomin clutching his sides, gasping through laughter as summer and madness officially begin.
Let the season of chaos commence.