Treatin’

Micro Fiction

She cradled the dish on her hip underneath her ridgid boob. She brushed the white cat off the mint ottoman, and plopped down on the corner. She took a swig of PBR. She rolled one up.

She flipped through the scary movie marathons. She checked her cell phone to see the latest Instagram activity. She hearted a few pics and commented on others. She reached into the dish and pulled out a handful of mini Snickers and Mars Bars. She bit one open with her teeth and chewed through the peanuts.

She texted “8:30 or 9:00. Wanna come over?”

She straightened her paste-on mustache. She reapplied her hot pink lipstick. She pretended to vacuum and sang “I want to break free.”

She snatched the dish and raced to the door. She straighten her black, bouffant wig and primped her pink sweater vest. She grinned a toothy grin and distributed a handful of mini chocolates into the Princess and the Jedi’s candy pumpkins and told them how cute they looked while she Instagrammed them.

She waved to the vampire and shouted “See you in a bit, guruuurl” at Edward Scissorhands. She stood in the doorway, handfulled a few more candy pumpkins, and Instagramed those too. She pushed the white cat back inside with her black, fishnet-stocking legs.

She read “Be there in 5, gotta put on my sluttiest heels.” She texted back, “Can’t wait to see them! Can’t wait for you to see me!!!”

She took a few more drags and shotgunned the rest of her PBR. She sat back down on the ottoman and adjusted her groin. She sang out, “Oh how I want to be free!”