This week the prompt is: …but my poor old feet…+ 100 words
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Poor Old Feet
The kettle shrieked. Lucy shuffled in wearing flip flops and a housecoat. She emptied it into a bowl of Epsom salts set on the floor, and threw herself into the chair. She watched the water fizz. The steam is hot, the humidity’s hell, and the window fan’s a joke.
Impatient, she emptied half her water bottle into the bath, and dipped in a swirling toe, and then another.
The screen door slammed. “Battery’s dead. Hop along to town and buy me smokes.”
“I jus’ come from work.”
“But my poor old feet—I been standin’…”
“What-the… Ow-ow-ow. Hot-hot-hot. You crazy…”
“Your turn. Git.”
© 2015 Tess and How the Cookie Crumbles. All Rights Reserved.
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I had to check if my memories of Epsom salts were correct. Take a gander:
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