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Author on Reedsy Prompts since Jan, 2020
Submitted to Contest #22
Mrs. Dupont twirls in front of the mirror, gold dress glittering like the chandelier will at tonight’s soiree. She reckons she’ll be buried in this dress by next year’s party. Though cakey makeup may hide her wrinkles, it won’t fool Father Time, no sirree. After a couple spritzes of sticky hairspray, smelling like perfume sprayed on bleach, she climbs down the stairs, which creak under her weight. Nigel don’t even look up from his kneeled position, straightening Eli’s bowtie, his expression like a bomb disabler in an action flick. “You...
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