Monday, April 19, 2010

The Merry Widow

Violet liked visiting her daughter's house these days. Now that Sarah was single again, a widow of the waste-of-a-name husband of hers (she'd been investigated by the police but her genuine distress over his death had exonerated her) her priorities had become her home and her daughter, Emily. Without the penny-pinching Jason holding the purse strings, Sarah now indulged in the luxury of soft tissue instead of the ten-rolls-for-a-pound thrift shop bargains. Toilet paper like school tracing pads had played havoc with Violet's bottom and contributed to her previous reduced visiting. Soft tissues were much kinder, even on bloody knives.

6 comments:

aims said...

Oh! I didn't expect those last two words at all!!

Leatherdykeuk said...

:)

stephanie said...

Ah. There she is, the perfect final-words-stingray. Lovely.

Leatherdykeuk said...

Thank you :)

DJ Kirkby said...

Oh dear, anti mother-in-law tissue. Who'd have thought?

Leatherdykeuk said...

Nobody has those ;)