“Drink your milk, Tommy.” Three-year-old Tommy looks up at his mom, then stares at the glass. He blinks and makes a face. Back home, his regular milk glass is straight and ordinary with a teddy bear decal, the restaurant glass is stubby and round as a barrel. It’s foreign to him. Tommy sits looking at his milk, his bright pink hair stands up straight and his saucer-like blue eyes dominate his entire face. He’s my big sister’s little boy and he looks up to me, his uncle. He hasn’t learned yet that I’m a wily 15-year-old that enjoys creating chaos. Sitting across from Tommy, I lean in on my elbows and say, “Hey, Tommy, did your mom ever tell you that milk doesn’t really come
[ January 09, 2013, 11:22 PM: Message edited by: Kathleen Dalton Woodbury ]
Posted by Kathleen Dalton Woodbury (Member # 59) on :
Is this a short story or a longer work? It's in the wrong place right now.
Posted by Robert Nowall (Member # 2764) on :
Y'know, Kathleen, your edit gives the last line a slightly risque meaning...
Posted by Kathleen Dalton Woodbury (Member # 59) on :
Risque is in the eye of the reader in this case, Robert. Tsk! Tsk!
Posted by MattLeo (Member # 9331) on :
quote:Originally posted by Kathleen Dalton Woodbury: Risque is in the eye of the reader ...
As is "the wrong place". **rimshot**
Posted by Kathleen Dalton Woodbury (Member # 59) on :
Okay, since I've received no response regarding the length of this piece, I'm going to guess, and move it to the Fragments and Feedback for Short Works area.