FunHouse

“Baby, it’s time to get up,” Camille said.

“Okay,” Richie mumbled with his face buried in his pillow.

“Come on, sweet pea. You’re going to be late and I can’t drive you to school,” Camille returned to Richie’s doorway to say. After a few moments, she returned. “Richard, I am not feeling well and I don’t have time for this.” Camille peered into the darkness and saw something wasn’t right.  

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Julia & Josh

“Nice of you to come back,” Julia said in the corner of the sun room with her arms crossed. “Where were you?”

“Seeing what was left of my kitchen,” Christian said, dragging a chair behind him. The day had worn him down and bags hung under his eyes. 

“Oh? You weren’t asking him his side of the story first,” Julia snapped. 

“Does it matter,” Christian asked lazily. 

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Josh & Julia

“Sit down and shut up,” Christian yelled after he threw Josh down into a wooden chair. Josh’s shoe hovered in the air as he tried to balance himself and get back up again. Christian pointed him down until he relaxed.

“Look, I gotta catch a flight,” Josh pled.

“I said shut up!”

“Am I under arrest, officer,” Josh asked snidely.

Christian side eyed him. “Ha ha,” he answered dryly. “Just relax, all right,” he said with a reassuring hand. Anita entered the room with a knitted frown. “Where is she,” Christian asked her.

“She’s in the sun room,” Anita answered. 

“I don’t need to be here,” Josh said, fixing his slightly burnt collared dress shirt.

“Josh, I’m not going to tell you again,” Christian said with his palm extended to silence him.

“I’m not the one who screwed up,” Josh said, smoothing his wet singed hair back.

“This wouldn’t be happening if you didn’t set fire to my kitchen,” Christian roared. “Now,” he said in a calmer tone. “I could press charges. I could call the police. But I’m not going to do that. I want one simple thing. I want you to tell me what happened.”  Continue reading “Josh & Julia”

The Last Delivery

“Baby! I ain’t gon’ tell you again. Hurry up and get your narrow behind in the bed!”

Dion silently walked into the kitchen after his mother yelled loud enough to where the neighbors could hear, but not loud enough to embarrass Dion. Dion’s mother turned around from the counter where Christmas dinner was being prepared.

“Dion, what did I just say?”

Dion had a small piece of paper ripped out from a magazine folded neatly between his fingertips.

“What is it,” she asked with a softer voice. 

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