“Easy with that,” she says, pointing a spork at the unmarked, red bottle.
He scoffs.
Susie smirks.
One bite. Two. Three.
A glossy brow, glassy eyes, and gaping nostrils spell a silent, smouldering secret.
“Just the way” — Gus gasps — “I like it.”
Vulnerable on main
My personal stories and musings
Find BIG inspiration in the little moments
Poetry that purrs. It's reowr because the cat said so.
AUTHOR
The Literary (or Junk) Writings of Leslie Muzingo
Poetry, History, Mythology
Confessions of a White Trash Hoe
I love it! Spork!
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Poit!
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Hehehe I wonder exactly what was in the red bottle. And sporks are soooo underrated! 😀
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I had no idea you could buy /metal/ sporks. I don’t know why they aren’t part of our regular cutlery 😛
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Haha! Good one.
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It’s based in part on an incident with my husband when we were first dating. 🙂
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Too funny! I had a friend once who wasn’t happy until he’d had enough jalepenos to cause rivulets of sweat to run down his reddened face.
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I like the alliteration. I definitely have made that same mistake–and not admitted I overdid it, although I was coughing and gasping.
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Lol! This is so like my husband 🙂 Love it.
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Best use of spork in a Microstory ever!!
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