“Aye,” said Hona. She was lounging on the roof.
“Put your clothes on, woman.” That was Judith.
Hona slid her sunshades down, “Come over here and make me.”
A patter of footsteps interrupted the mutinous glare-off.
“Hey! You two …. oh,” said Dima.
“Tell her to put on her clothes!”
Here I am, with a glaring gap of prompts eyeing me. Here you are, probably unawares of the fact up to the point I gave myself away. Why do I mention this every time? A bit guilty perhaps. But that’s fine. Here’s mine in fifty words!
via Ermilia Blog, please click to see source.
The sun was yawning. Spell broken. The crisp wetness clung to us. A shiver arrowed down my spine. Continue reading