The hot water jetted from the bathroom faucet, swirling in steam, bubbling at the depressed plunger below and sprinkling the mirror and marble counter with drops of mist.

Pass the toothbrush from the left-hand side.

“I’ll/you’ll/we’ll rinse it in between,” they told each other.

“There’s no reason to spread my/your/our germs to me/you/us.”

Good hygiene is important, Isaiahs thought, no matter how many of us there are.

Moments later, with four fresh sets of teeth, the Isaiah quartet parts ways. A pair of Isaiahs slowly meander to their bedroom; the other Isaiahs stay at the bathroom mirror, hidden at the edge, near the door.

“What am I/you gonna wear?”

Black and blue seems fitting.

====

Isaiahs looked down at the two t-shirts sprawled out on their bedroom floor; one black, one blue, both being done up with their mother’s white fabric-paint. At each shirt’s center was an exponentiation; a large uppercase “I” with a smaller superscript of “u”.

“I TO THE POWER OF U!” Isaiahs shout as one.