Saturday's Storyteller: "Well, here I was, getting ready to jump out of her birthday cake."
by Belinda Roddie
Well, here I was, getting ready to jump out of her birthday cake. All that yellow sponge buried in that delicious buttercream frosting - it was time for the scrumptious volcano to erupt. Well, as soon as I push myself out from that sweet prison, what should I hear but her screams. And not of excitement, either.
Well, here I was, getting ready to jump out of her birthday cake. All that yellow sponge buried in that delicious buttercream frosting - it was time for the scrumptious volcano to erupt. Well, as soon as I push myself out from that sweet prison, what should I hear but her screams. And not of excitement, either.
"I swear, if I see Miranda's face here, I'll gonna bash it in with the fucking bat we're using for the piñata!"
Welp. Time to get my pastry-caked ass right out of this condo and into the cold suburban night.
Since when did Ainsley hate me? I couldn't tell if it had been a long term disdain or a short term one. Was it something I did or did? Was it the boy we both fell for in high school? Was it simply her unbridled rage that normally surfaced when she drank way too much jalapeño-infused tequila?
Whatever the case, I was gonna take a long shower so I could stop smelling like sugar and buttermilk, head down to the bar, and order myself a Moscow mule.
"Nicely done, Miranda. Ainsley was confused as Hell after you fled the party."
"Shut up, Roy."
This week's prompt was provided by Jocelyn Morton.
Welp. Time to get my pastry-caked ass right out of this condo and into the cold suburban night.
Since when did Ainsley hate me? I couldn't tell if it had been a long term disdain or a short term one. Was it something I did or did? Was it the boy we both fell for in high school? Was it simply her unbridled rage that normally surfaced when she drank way too much jalapeño-infused tequila?
Whatever the case, I was gonna take a long shower so I could stop smelling like sugar and buttermilk, head down to the bar, and order myself a Moscow mule.
"Nicely done, Miranda. Ainsley was confused as Hell after you fled the party."
"Shut up, Roy."
This week's prompt was provided by Jocelyn Morton.
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