Monkey Monty's Unfinished Tales Of Gibberish

She wasn't born beige but Jacqueline did enter the world quietly.
The surgeons mask was not eggshell but a suggestion of eggshell...
non-offensive white... neither too white nor too creamy. The lights were maybe even a little dimmer that day...but not enough to call the birth on account of bad weather. In the months leading up to her scheduled arrival her mother occupied herself with internal debates and diplomatic
cooking while father was indifferent to his office potlucks, choosing instead to lunch at a nearby falafel stand of reknowned blandness. With little fanfare and minimal clean-up she joined the Jejune family that day. A day later, under the protection of flannel and the locomotion of Chrysler, they travelled home to Placid Bay.

It was on a similar day shortly before her 28th birthday that she noticed it. The voices down the hallway had a lilt...dare she say it? (dare her thesaurous protest) ... a twang?.... a resonance?..... a melody to their cacophony? (Nearby an ant in a tuxedo limped across the table. A junebug hit the window with a daytimer set to August. A moth spasmodically tried to escape the light fixture while attempting to dial the locksmith). She looked up and noticed the slight stain on the ceiling from the leak in November. It held the glowing persona of religious iconolatry. Only briefly. A fraction of a second. A flea's gag reflex in length...but it was there.

to be continued