Pure Slush

flash ... without the wank

Warts

<  Early Morning Reverie

by Cheryl Anne Gardner    Much Less Me  >


She knew a handful of peacock feathers and a frilly frock wouldn't get her much. Maybe a dirty radish picked from the neighbor’s sad excuse of a garden, if one were want for radishes, but it certainly wouldn't buy her much of a spring day. Not the sort she was looking for.

"Well," said the chauffeur, trying to offer a bit of comfort to her, his rather frustrated princess, as she sat slumped in the back of the carriage silently weeping over the dreams of youth forever lost. "At least we don't have to bury potatoes in the light of a full moon, so there's that, my lady ... at least we have that."

 

published 14 December 2011