“You aren’t dressed.”
“I’m not going to Robert’s party.”
“Honey…”
Karen threw the dishrag into the sink. “Robert hit on me last Thanksgiving. Don’t you care he’s a pervert?”
“He’s my boss and my evaluation is next week.”
“Your shirt is pressed.” She opened the dishwasher. “Go.”
Karen listened to Mitch dress in the next room. At least she still recognized the sounds he made.
Mitch walked out and tightened his tie. “Should I tell Wendy you said hello?”
Her jaw clenched. “Warm the car. I’ll be dressed in fifteen minutes.”
Mitch whistled on the way to the car.
*falls over*
ReplyDeleteShe DOES write fiction! :)
Not looking forward to the impending holiday parties, are we? ;) (Don't worry, I'm not either.)
I'm looking forward to the holidays. Karen and Mitch are a different story.
ReplyDeleteSimply remembering a certain post on the Misanthrope's Guide to Surviving Holiday Parties. ;)
ReplyDeleteAh, yes. You do have a point there. I'm looking forward to family. Dressing up and going to parties...well, the Misanthrope's Guide still applies.
ReplyDeleteYes, but pressing the shirt in the dishwasher.Was a stroke of Genius!!!
ReplyDeleteMoskeeto Jack
Fantastic!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Lena.
ReplyDelete