Status: something to help the writer's block
The Irony is That This Cell Phone Has Gone Through Dante's Inferno and Back and Still Looks Better Than You
In Which No Ice Cube Related Injuries Were Suffered
Caroline Whitmore and Rosa Santos sat on the porch, watching the three children play some game that involved linking hands and spinning, until it took more effort to stand than to spin.
“They’re funny, aren’t they?” Caroline said, lifting a glass of lemonade to her lips. She was a beauty queen back in the day, and still conducted herself like one.
Rosa smiled. Despite her intensely Hispanic upbringing, her English only held the barest of accents. Everything she said sounded like music. “Just wait until high school.”
A jilted “Sweetheart!” rang out across the yard.
Caroline and Rosa both worked to hide their knowing smiles.
“I give them until his junior year,” Caroline speculated. Rosa nearly choked on an ice cube.
“And she’ll be a freshman! I give them until hers. As smart as that boy is, it might take a year or two away before he realizes what he’s missing.”
A third voice screamed about unfair rules—why couldn’t all three of them spin together?
“Sophomore year, then.” Their glasses clinked together.
“Agreed, mi comadre.”
“They’re funny, aren’t they?” Caroline said, lifting a glass of lemonade to her lips. She was a beauty queen back in the day, and still conducted herself like one.
Rosa smiled. Despite her intensely Hispanic upbringing, her English only held the barest of accents. Everything she said sounded like music. “Just wait until high school.”
A jilted “Sweetheart!” rang out across the yard.
Caroline and Rosa both worked to hide their knowing smiles.
“I give them until his junior year,” Caroline speculated. Rosa nearly choked on an ice cube.
“And she’ll be a freshman! I give them until hers. As smart as that boy is, it might take a year or two away before he realizes what he’s missing.”
A third voice screamed about unfair rules—why couldn’t all three of them spin together?
“Sophomore year, then.” Their glasses clinked together.
“Agreed, mi comadre.”
♠ ♠ ♠
hi