A cry broke through the blare of the TV. It was my aunt's voice, echoing from the front room. She sounded surprised, like she had seen a large spider or spilled her Diet Coke on her lap. Sensing no alarm, I finished coloring in a gingerbread man for my Christmas cards, before venturing into the front room to investigate. What a sight beheld my eyes. My aunt, sitting in her favorite black massage chair, had toppled backwards on the ground.
It seemed the massage chair had decided on that particular Tuesday that it wanted to spend the rest of its days (not many, by any reckoning) being a horizontal chair instead of a vertical one. Being reclusive, it had not decided to communicate this fact with my aunt until the moment of its resolution. At that point it issued a loud crack, and the deed was done. My poor flustered aunt was like a turtle upside down on its shell, kicking and embarassed.
I helped her up, and we examined the massage chair. Alas, it was set on its retirement, and neither sweet words, threats, nor glue could coax it upright again. My aunt was desolate. Even now she mourns the loss of her beloved black chair, with frowning face and tight shoulders.
* * *
You know how last week, I said that substitute jobs were hard to get in November? Apparently, I spoke too soon. I worked 4 days this week and have 2 more scheduled for next week. Thank goodness I got a head start on Nanowrimo last weekend, or I'd be falling behind. Right now, my word count is hovering at around 20,000, which sounds impressive, but only covers one "short" story and part of a chapter. I still have 4 more chapters to go in order to meet my goals.
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