For day 200 I couldn’t think of anything better than James Blunt singing and stripping! Now that’s hot (and snowy cold).
A fictional piece of writing based on emotions of the past.
There were small dresses hovering above. Light spilled in through the bottom of the closet door in the shape of a crescent moon. From where I sat, I let the moon kiss the back of my hand. Then I stretched my hand through the narrow crack beneath the door and wiggled my tiny fingers in the space outside the darkness. After counting to three, I pulled my hand back and returned it to the thick warmth of my dog’s fur.
An hour earlier, draped in my yellow shooting-star-patterned nightgown, I head reached across the dining table, and said, “One plate for you handsome Mr. Thumper and one for you dashing Blue Pony.” My animals stared back at me and smiled then, Pony resting on his side in the side chair, because he kept falling down with his bad balance, and Thumper on his tail with his paws on the table. “No arms on the table,” I said, and placed Thumper on his rump. “That’s better. Did you wash your hands?” They nodded. “Did you say grace?” They nodded again. “Good,” I praised, picking up my red plastic piggybank from my chair and taking a seat.
“Good job,” Mother said, as she walked in through the kitchen door. She plopped down a platter of cold meatloaf and a blue bowl of buttered potatoes, and then lit up four candles.
I held my plastic piggybank up to my ear. “What’s that? Let me see.” I looked up. “He wants to know if he can come to the sitter’s on Monday.”
The rest of this story is in the book 🙂
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