Friday, June 10, 2011

Hydrant flush

This isn't the first time Mr. Heiney has bailed me out of a funk, and here he is again - giving me an irresistable prompt with which to play. I guess I owe him a blow job.


Jim: "Candace simply adored her new shoes. They sat prettily on her shelf where she had been admiring them for the past few days. Now that she had the perfect outfit to go with them, she supposed she should remove the previous owner's feet from them so she could wear them."


It was too soon, though. The woman hanging from a hook in the closet hadn't lost enough weight.

There were rules Candace knew, and that the previous owner had to die via starvation was the foremost of them. Without strict adherence to her rules, the world she'd carefully constructed would devolve into complete chaos, and Candace was far too peaceful a creature to cope with that. Her shoes would have to wait until the woman died.

They rules didn't forbid Candace from turning up the thermostat to ninety degrees, however. She did so with a satisfied smile, and then she shed her new dress and instead, donned an pair of blue slacks and a white, frothy shirt and paired them with the former Mr. Clein's comically small loafers.

Her feet throbbed in anticipation of the new shoes, however, so she made sure to bring along some bandages in case of a lust-blister.

She was meeting friends for lunch, and so she had only a small window of time to deliver Eva's lunch box to school. Her daughter had forgotten it on the counter and Candace had been notified by the school that Eva needed to purchase a lunch on her mother's credit. Appalled at the idea of her own child ingesting the dangerously ill-prepared hot lunch of a public school, Candace managed to squeeze in a trip to the elementary.

It gave her a chance to check out the receptionists Keds.