Another assist to my man,
, for supplying the prompt that catalysed this story. You can check out his story here:
Once again, I couldn’t land on a nice round number but the story made me laugh so I wanted to share it… I mean, we all have an Aunt Carol in our lives, don’t we? That one relative that makes you grateful, for all the wrong reasons, that the holidays only come once a year.
Oh, boy…
Enjoy,
c.d.
endless
Look, if you don’t believe in Hell, or Samsara, or, shit, even plain old ordinary bad luck, then you’ve clearly never sat next to my Aunt Carol at holiday dinner. The woman possesses an arcane gift, I tell ya. She can turn small talk into the Spanish Inquisition without lifting a finger (nail). I swear, even the friggin’ onions cry when she walks into a room. I almost can’t help but be impressed. Rumour has it, she learned her caustic tricks from an ex-lover, an old KGB spook she met in Europe after the Wall fell. Needless to say, her needling of my flaws—the washed-out dye in my hair, the sloppy darns in my sweater, the lack of romantic partner this late into my thirties—was endless. Thankfully, dinner was not.
… even the friggin’ onions cry when she walks into a room.😅