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Quick aside: I had set a goal for my manuscript of 22,000 words by tomorrow, which means, hmm, another 1,596 words to go. Almost there, yeeehaaa! I'll get a few more in the bag tonight, then the rest tomorrow morning. Which means I'll have the afternoon for a birthday lunch with friends at my new best fun place to eat, PicNic Cafe and Dessertery. Yep. You heard that right. DESSERTery! Bet they'll have some kind of yummy cake for the birthday girl! Then either a massage or a movie after. Or both. Why not. It's my birthday after all. :)
This entry is an short excerpt from my novel, Churches, Chickens and ChiChi's. (For those who asked, chichi's is another name for ta ta's or breasts.) The MC, Sammy, is just home from Hollywood after twelve years away to take care of her mother who's had a heart attack. 'Home' is a rural community in North Georgia. Gracie May was Sammy's best friend through school until they had a falling-out their Senior year.
I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it. Please click on the comments below and leave your thoughts as a momento, uh, birthday present. Unless of course you hated it. And, yes, I want to know that, too.
She waved the jumbo package of Northern tissue at her mother, “I found it over in the Health and Beauty aisle, though Lord knows why they keep it there, this stuff isn’t healthy. We’ll have to go to Kroger for the chlorine-free stuff. They don’t have it.”
Living in California had changed Sammy’s eating habits and made her aware of her health. She chose not to rub chlorine bleach in her coochie every time she peed, or support a practice that was so obviously bad for the planet.
“Well, I’ll be. If it isn’t Samantha Eubanks,” a voice drawled, dripping with venomous sarcasm. Sammy knew before turning who the voice belonged to, and sure enough, it was Gracie May.
“Why if it isn’t Gracie May Williams,” Sammy returned, mimicking Gracie May’s tone. “My, but haven’t we grown up.”
Out was more like it. Gracie May had put on fifty pounds if she’d put on an ounce. Her double chin rested on pendulous boobs and her hair boasted a jet-black dye job, a bad one that frizzed around her head.
Two snotty-nosed kids writhed behind her, slapping at each other and fighting over something the boy was holding. Just then the girl, the spitting image of Gracie May at eight, reached out and slapped the boy in the face. He squealed and attacked her, using his fists in retaliation.
“See ya later, Gracie May. Looks like you’ve got your hands full,” Sammy said, grabbing the buggy and dragging her mother with her.
“Oh. My. God.” Sammy laughed when they were away from the ruckus. “Let’s get out of here, Mama. Whatever else you need we’ll get it at Kroger.”
“Come on,” she hissed when her mother hesitated to look back in the direction of Gracie May’s bellows.
Sammy pushed the cart to the far checkout lane and got her mother out of Walmart as quickly as possible. Gracie May and the terror twins were nowhere in sight as she bundled the groceries in the trunk and slammed the lid.
Making sure her mother was buckled in, she put the bug in reverse and skedaddled.
Thanks for stopping by! Olivia
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