She looked at the pole in her hands. "I just found it," she said. ”I’ve been looking for it for hours, but it must have been right here the whole time. Should I be worried? OMG, DO I HAVE A BRAIN TUMOR?!!!”
Gracie had a really nice name, one that would make you think she took things in stride, gracefully, but in truth, she did anything but. Drama followed her like a submissive and beaten dog, always at her heels and often underfoot. Today’s drama was taking place in a bed and breakfast the two of us had wanted to get some sister-time-away in. I should say that Gracie wanted some sister time away. I knew that what would happen would not be good for me. It never was.
“You do not have a brain tumor. You are a space cadet, and always have been.”
“There you go again! Minimizing my feelings! I am offended! You never did like me! Only Mom liked me and now that she is dead, I get NO support in this family!”
I should have known better than to insult her. I take responsibility for what happened next.
"As expected," he said. "Lost all feeling. Numbed it. That's what it's done."
The man next to us in the doctor’s office had been talking non-stop about his upcoming hernia operation. He went for acupuncture for the pain it was causing, and the entire area had gone numb. I got the feeling he was the type to find himself in one doctor’s office after another. Just like this stupid sister of mine, ruining my getaway (during which I hoped to mostly ignore her) as usual. Every single moment of every day had to be about her. So of course, she had to one-up this guy.
“You think that’s bad? You should try being me for a day. My feet are so sore I can barely stand, and acupuncture did absolutely nothing for the pain. I’ve been miserable just standing for the past 60 years.”
“Bartholemew” called the receptionist. We all three stood up.
My sister moaned and groaned her way to standing, and Hernia Guy held his protruding hernia with both hands as he heaved himself to upright. He dropped his paperwork in the process and, while gingerly maneuvering himself into position to pick the disordered papers back up, he brushed up against my sister’s (tight) ass.
She screamed at him “You pervert!” then to everyone “He touched my derriere! CALL 911.”
I felt a seventy year old scream coming on along with a powerful urge to slap the living daylights out of my younger sister. Ever since I was two years old, she was the center of attention everywhere she went, by screeching and hissy-fitting all over the place. It was time I slapped her, and good. I hauled back my right arm to pop her one, swung, missed, spun around, and landed on Hernia Guy’s papers, now scattered all over the waiting room. Hernia Guy started to wail in falsetto “My papers my papers my papers!”
That 70 year old scream escaped my lips just as the cops walked in.
Hours later, I found that I preferred the quiet of the holding cell in the local small town jail to the company of my own sister. The good news is that I got a moment’s peace on my vacation after all. I almost wish @fionasfavourites, the BnB owner, had never come to bail me out.
This is my entry to @mariannewest's daily freewrite challenge. On Saturdays we have a second option of the fabulous Three Part Freewrite: we write for one prompt for five minutes, then move onto the second and third prompts, no peeking ahead. It's always a trip! The prompts are in bold italics in my entry today.
Notice for Newbies on Hive
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Try to remember to leave a link under @mariannewest's . That will help us find you. The easiest way to find the daily prompt is to go directly to @mariannewest's blog. Here is today's post.
To maximize readership, you might also post in the Freewriters Community (or @hive-161155), use a first tag of #freewrite or #freewritepoetry, go leave comments on others' freewrites, or any combination of those.
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I forgot to wear my hat!