domestic life

“Hello? O, hi, Cheryl. No, I’m not busy, just working on the kids’ bedroom at the moment. You know, the same old thing, cat walked through and wrecked the whole left edge. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with what I’m given, Cheryl. I just don’t know. You know Stan, always promising we’ll move out to the back yard, but when he says it half his eyes aren’t even looking at me, you know what I mean? I’m beginning to think we’re stranded here in this miserable place with no windows and an overachieving cat. Cheryl? Cheryl, let me call you back. I think the Person is home, so I need to pick up the kids from the faucet and hide behind the TV. I’ll call you later, honey. Okay, bye-bye.”

“An afternoon in the life of a spider” was the prompt I used. Thanks, Rebecca.

[Want to help me bust through my writer’s block this month? Read about this exercise!]

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.