A Scene

I was never used to this sort of scene: my husband laying on his back, texting something or other to his sister. The big screen television set, though having an orange tint, was connected to some sort of cable network. HGTV had the international version of House Hunters. Oma Rosemary was making cake icing for the funfetti cake David had baked. She worked diligently. I wished I could help her, glaring at the webpages of various universities.

“Why can’t these be user friendly?” I grumbled.

“What was that, love?”

“Nothing, honey,” I said, smiling at David. He was staring at me with the beautiful green eyes that just emulated love towards me. My heart swelled and tears sprung to my eyes. Fredrick kicked from inside my womb. Turning back to the computer, Oma suddenly cleared her throat.

“Where are my two beater lickers?” she asked, turning around in her wheelchair. Her purple blanket dangled off her legs precariously. In her left hand were the beaters from her electric mixer.

“What do you say?” I asked David, turning to look at him. “Do you want to lick her beaters?”

David started laughing, losing all control. He rolled on the floor, hitting it with his fist before finally taking the beaters from his grandmother’s hand and handing one to me. Putting aside the computer, I started licking the chocolaty icing goodness.


About blackwinterrosethorn

I am an artist and a writer whose living in Virginia. I go to Hollins University and I am a double minor in Creative Writing and Music. I've been writing for about eleven or twelve years. I've been singing forever and I have been drawing and painting for four or five years. I am open to doing commissions and collaborative pieces. View all posts by blackwinterrosethorn

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