Day 170: The Broken Board

A bunion of a gal, I called Cousin Betty, leaned on a century-old redwood tree picking at a quarter-size scab on her elbow.  She was unsightly, red all over with flakes of skin saluting the wind.  When I thought about Betty, I visualized a witch hunched over a littered kitchen table yanking on the blue ligaments of a cold chicken leg with her silver-crowned, tobacco-stained teeth.

I couldn’t help myself.


This complete story can be found in the book Everyday Aspergers

Based on True Events  © Everyday Aspergers, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.