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Weekly Contest #94
Warning: Domestic Violence “But why do I have to clean Bruce’s mess? It’s his mess not my mess?” Martha stomped, whined and writhed in turmoil, twisting her body dramatically. Her jaw grew slack and her eyebrows stitched together creating what looked like permanent frown lines on her six-year-old face. “Because I said so!” The well-worn phrase fell out of Fiona’s mouth like a brick onto a flower bed. “I hate Bruce!” Fiona grabbed Martha’s face pinching her slippery cheeks together and sternly looking into her bratty eyes. “Don’t you say ...
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