slushy curse

shirt-pola

“I want a slushy the second we get out of this place,” I demanded, “this is bullshit.”
“Frank,” she hissed, smacking my arm with the wicked backhanded swing that she had mastered over the years, numbing the entire left hand side of my body. Good thing her swing wasn’t nearly as bad as dad’s. “Who taught you to talk like that? Never ever talk like that, and if I ever hear you say that again… blah blah blah… blah blah…”

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s