I fail sneaking in.

“You’re late,” she observes. Reclined in the armchair, she stops my heart with two chilled words. She arches a mordant eyebrow, and raises one foot to instruct me.

“Beseech my forgiveness by cleaning my boots. Use your tongue.”

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20 thoughts on “Director”

    1. I carelessly skipped over the title when I first read this, so the mention of sneaking in conjured up images of a teen breaking curfew getting caught by mom. By the end, I couldn’t believe the weird family dynamic you had created.

      1. Oh god, I surely hope that’s no teen. Eeew. It’s already eeeww enough without the extra-skeevy of a family dynamic.

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