My Cardboard Balcony

Sometimes, if you think really hard, a story can write itself. Except when it doesn't. And it decides to kick back on a lawn chair with a hard lemonade and a pornographic magazine. Lazy fucking bum. This week's prompt was provided by Arden Roddie.

Look at the poster on your sister's wall! She swoons for ladies with short hair and dimpled smiles, dressed in suits or leather jackets and letting a cheap cigarette dangle from between their curved lips. Your father thinks she's sick, true; he debates aloud whether the good ol' "therapy" will do the trick. But he knows he can't make any decision without my approval. Next week, I'm taking your sister out shopping for the prom, and whatever she ends up donning, she can take any damn beautiful girl she sets her eyes on.