yorkshire

This story is stolen. It belongs to a friend of a friend whom I had the pleasure of spending a few hours with. During the writing of this episode, some facts might have been altered but most of the story is written as it was told. It was a moment in time of pure silliness and I think the world needs to know about it.

She liked glitters and high heels. Her blond hair was tied back in a stylish bun as she whipped her cupcake mix. She was a bright girl with her own café at age only 20. Young entrepreneur, she was scared of nothing, except moths. As she put the cupcakes in the oven and wiped away the already clean tables, she looked around. Her café was empty. Summer season was ending. She would be closing the place for the winter soon. No one comes to the village in winter. The café had done all right this season, enough to last another year. Why she had been thinking about moths she doesn’t know. With goose bumps appearing on her arms she turned her thoughts to nicer things. The day passed slowly. She read a bit. Nothing interesting. She burned her cupcakes. No matter. The day was ending. She put on some sparkling lipgloss and walked out, locking up behind her. She was walking calmly to her car when suddenly something stuck to her lip. In panic she tried to wipe it off but her lipgloss was the extra sticky kind and the bug just kept flapping its wings uselessly, ensnared by the gooey substance. She jumped up and down her heels clicking on the pavement, her platinum hair bouncing in her shut-in-disgust eyes. She wanted to yell but couldn’t out of fear of swallowing her prisoner. She expressed her panic through muffled screams instead. She finally managed to knock it away with the back of her hand. It fell to the ground. She looked down. A moth. One wing missing. She shuddered. She got into her car and drove away.

             

The Writer

I write stuff for fun, if it was for a living I would be homeless.

Find out more about me, Stefanie, here.

Quotes

Hey man I never asked for your name, I'm just gonna call you Sessle. Drunk Irishman