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 Puppy Dogs Eyes Are A Real Thing
Her breath fogged up the glass of the pet shop window, thawing a thin layer of ice.
“Mom!” Natalia said breathlessly. On the other side of the glass was a puppy, only a few months old. In that moment, she decided it was a girl and that her name was Snow White. It fit, because her fur was shiny and white and looked as if it were the feather down in Natalia’s pillows.
Her mother approached, slipping a gloved hand into her daughter’s mittened one.
“What is it, mi niña?”
“The puppy! Can we get the puppy?” It was rare for Natalia to ask anything of her parents. Her father’s favorite response was “You want it? Get a job.”
“A puppy…?” The last thing Rosa Santos wanted to deal with was a puppy.
“Please? I promise that I’ll feed her and walk her and play with her and love her and—” Rosa cut her off, arching one drawn-on eyebrow. She was feeling lenient today, and her daughter and that dog were attacking her from both sides with literal puppy dog eyes.
She sighed. “You promise? A Santos doesn’t break a promise, Natalia. I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain,” she affirmed, her voice holding a sense of authority.
Natalia was a bobble head of agreement.
Unable to contain herself, she burst into the warm interior of the pet shop and scooped up Snow White.
She held the puppy to her chest as if she would never let go.
“Mom!” Natalia said breathlessly. On the other side of the glass was a puppy, only a few months old. In that moment, she decided it was a girl and that her name was Snow White. It fit, because her fur was shiny and white and looked as if it were the feather down in Natalia’s pillows.
Her mother approached, slipping a gloved hand into her daughter’s mittened one.
“What is it, mi niña?”
“The puppy! Can we get the puppy?” It was rare for Natalia to ask anything of her parents. Her father’s favorite response was “You want it? Get a job.”
“A puppy…?” The last thing Rosa Santos wanted to deal with was a puppy.
“Please? I promise that I’ll feed her and walk her and play with her and love her and—” Rosa cut her off, arching one drawn-on eyebrow. She was feeling lenient today, and her daughter and that dog were attacking her from both sides with literal puppy dog eyes.
She sighed. “You promise? A Santos doesn’t break a promise, Natalia. I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain,” she affirmed, her voice holding a sense of authority.
Natalia was a bobble head of agreement.
Unable to contain herself, she burst into the warm interior of the pet shop and scooped up Snow White.
She held the puppy to her chest as if she would never let go.
♠ ♠ ♠
fun fact: I have pictures for what my characters look like as teenagers and adults but I still haven't found the right ones for them as children. The search continues.