This was written for a prompt on the fabulous Community Storyboard. Does anyone else remember staring at clouds and imagining the shapes that appeared. I still do it now, looking at patterns in shadows, wallpaper, bubbles in the bath. Not sure what that says about me, lol
Jenny stood in the kitchen, a hand on each hip and her legs slightly apart to support the weight of a full blown strop. Her face was reddening and her chest was expanding frantically as she cocked her head in a gesture of defiance.
“I don’t care, I’m not going and you can’t make me”
Her mother looked at her, raised an exasperated eyebrow and carried on peeling the carrots.
Jenny huffed, stamped her foot, and ran outside. She slammed the kitchen door, and then slammed it again just because it wasn’t loud enough the first time. The lower of the three glass panes gave a satisfying rattle. She was so angry and it just wasn’t fair. They didn’t care what she thought, and no matter how many times she shouted her mother never listened. It was always the same. She felt the sting of tears fill her eyes and…
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