Excuses
Excuses, excuses...What is the lamest excuse you've ever given for something you've done?
Most of the bedclothes lay in a tattered heap on the rug. Strips of sheets hung from the chairs, the window ledges, even the doorway. Downy white feathers drifted in small piles on the floor, on the remains of the bed. Cracks were visible in the pristinely-painted walls. Bits of plaster lay crumbled unevenly on the scuffed wooden floor. Torn strips of what were once perfectly serviceable garments lay every which way.
On the corner sofa sat a perfectly respectable family of three: a stern father in suit and overcoat, a young mother in silky pink, and a plump baby in ribbons and white lace.
Everything in the room was splattered with sticky, drying droplets, stained a rusty red. On the broken mattress, Dru stretched lazily, bare-skinned, and licked a sticky stain off the back of her hand.
The door flew open, off its hinges. Darla and Angelus, after knocking (then pounding) repeatedly, were not pleased. The palest hints of morning peeked from the eastern sky, exposed by the now-drapeless bay windows.
"Dru, what is the meaning of this? We leave you for two hours--two hours--look at the mess you made!"
She could feel the anger and annoyance, bubbling away underneath like insects in the heat. Dru looked from one figure to the other, slowly, with innocent eyes.
"Why Grandmum, Daddy did it."
Most of the bedclothes lay in a tattered heap on the rug. Strips of sheets hung from the chairs, the window ledges, even the doorway. Downy white feathers drifted in small piles on the floor, on the remains of the bed. Cracks were visible in the pristinely-painted walls. Bits of plaster lay crumbled unevenly on the scuffed wooden floor. Torn strips of what were once perfectly serviceable garments lay every which way.
On the corner sofa sat a perfectly respectable family of three: a stern father in suit and overcoat, a young mother in silky pink, and a plump baby in ribbons and white lace.
Everything in the room was splattered with sticky, drying droplets, stained a rusty red. On the broken mattress, Dru stretched lazily, bare-skinned, and licked a sticky stain off the back of her hand.
The door flew open, off its hinges. Darla and Angelus, after knocking (then pounding) repeatedly, were not pleased. The palest hints of morning peeked from the eastern sky, exposed by the now-drapeless bay windows.
"Dru, what is the meaning of this? We leave you for two hours--two hours--look at the mess you made!"
She could feel the anger and annoyance, bubbling away underneath like insects in the heat. Dru looked from one figure to the other, slowly, with innocent eyes.
"Why Grandmum, Daddy did it."