She rocked on the porch. “Back when I ran for mayor, some of the men’s feelings were hurt.” Long pause. “But you know, I think that was OK.”
Courting disaster was her specialty. Cooking her mother-in-law’s special recipe was her medium.
The acrobat falls from the trapeze. Applause follows, but not from me: I am the harshest judge on Zombie Talentz UK. Plus, I have no torso.
He would not laugh again. She lifted the rifle to her shoulder, stroked the trigger and fired. He fell. The attendant handed her a goldfish.
“Can you pass me the shampoo?” she asked, hand out of the shower. He was passing by the door. He smiled, bent down, and handed her the cat.
She teetered on the stool to hang them. She reached. The stool tipped. She hit her head and they fluttered down, draped over her. Curtains.