The Perils of MotherhoodShe just won’t listen.The Perils of Motherhood2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
‘They’re my friends, Moooooooooom’, her new catchphrase, always heavy on the last ‘m’, like the word had two syllables.
‘I don’t HAVE to be just like you were at my age’, spat from unnaturally colored lips, so much venom and glitter flying in my face, sticking to my stinging cheeks as I turned away.
‘…’, was the worst. Radio silence, typically followed by and eye-rolling so pronounced, you’d swear she’d somehow become a Saturday morning cartoon, and a ‘Could you shut my door?’
I just don’t understand how I raised such a GEEK.
When I was her age, I was a holy terror- getting pierced, getting drunk, getting high on my dad’s unsuspecting dime, just everything a teenager is supposed to do.
I rode in cars with boys, seniors even- college seniors. I stayed out late, I cut class, I loved every moment. I ate up hearts and roads and shr
Thanksgiving We normally ignored holidays. Or at least the minor ones. It wasn't that we weren't perfectly capable of celebrating them, as we were plenty resourceful. We just didn't, I guess. I always suspected that it was sort of a pride thing with my brother, Danny. He'd rather us not celebrate a holiday at all, than have to celebrate some pathetic shadow of it, as I'm sure he would've put it. That's why I didn't expect it when he left in the middle of a freezing November night to go buy a chicken.Thanksgiving 2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I was probably napping when he returned, dragging that pitiful thing into the bunker. Someone had been nice enough to have already plucked it naked, but it was small, and it still had its head, meaning it hadn't been drained yet, and I couldn't help but laugh when I saw it.
"What's...that?" I remember asking him, and it must've came out sounding real rude, cause he answered me with the usual sarcasm he employed to combat my meanne
On the right to free expression - Sammy JensenIt was mid-august when Leah marched a twelve-year-old Sam into their father's study, his head decorated in elaborate swirls of marker. "See, daddy? With this, he'd look like a bit of a punk, instead of just a sick kid! He could go to school in September and he'd just look like he has really chill parents. It would be awesome! No more stupid beanies."On the right to free expression - Sammy Jensen2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Charles Jensen was unconvinced. The marker on his son's head was indeed a bit less depressing than the baldness, but he still remembered his son with a mop of curly strawberry-blonde locks. Besides, his wife had knitted the beanies. He thought they were adorable. "I don't know. It seems a bit extreme. And besides, the hair will grow back."
"Not soon, not in time for him to make real friends! It's lame, I've seen them at school. He can't run around and play with the others, 'cause they're always too careful if they're nice." Leah was adamant. At fourteen, she was always looking for a cause to champion. She did not