Posted by celiapleete in school days | Comments
She Knew All Along.
“Children, meet your new baby brother, Kevin.”
“Aww, he’s so cute, Mommy! Can we play with him?”
“Not yet, children. There’s someone else I want for you to meet. He’s very special to Kevin. You might have seen him hanging around after Father left in that fury several months ago. This is Mr. Willoughby, the milkman.”
CommentPosted by celiapleete in I'm 12 years old and what is this?, fashion | Comments
Secrets and Lies.
Secrets flashed wordlessly between them. The school chastity ball brought forth a night of passion…forbidden by most cultures, yes, but not one without fire and raw lust. Chaperoned by him, seduced in a golf cart afterward. Oh, if only they could repeat that magical night, but all she could say to him was,
“Good morning, Mike…I mean, Mr. Hammond.”
“Good morning, Patti. I trust you did your…homework last night?” He coughed nervously. Mrs. Taylor was in the elevator.
“I did, sir. I did it all night.”
“Good girl.”
CommentPosted by celiapleete in adverts | Comments
Howliday Inn.
Other reasons:
a) find a way to dig out the small children lost in that forest of teased hair
b) understand the logic behind the drawn eyebrows
c) pry the brochure from Darlene’s cold, dead fingers.
CommentPosted by celiapleete in genepool | Comments
Jars of Blood.
Annette carefully ladled the last of the blood of the slaughtered pig into the last jar. It would be a most bountiful winter indeed.
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