Chill Gunshot Piercing It began, as all life-altering decisions do, with someone else’s fashion. My younger cousin walked in wearing purple ear studs—confident, casual, as if he had always been this stylish creature. I looked at him. He looked at me. The studs looked back at me and whispered, “Upgrade pending…” My wife sealed the matter in one line: “You will look good.” That was it. Proposal passed. No further discussion. A few days later, we went to the jeweller’s shop to buy a chain for our daughter. A normal, respectable outing. But destiny had other plans… and a small device that makes a sound like a stapler with attitude. My five-year-old grandson came along, purely for moral support—his own, not mine. The jeweller inspected my ears like an archaeologist discovering ancient ruins. “Ah! Old holes are there,” he declared, as if announcing hidden treasure. My wife took charge. She marked the exact spot on my earlobes with the seriousness of a surgeon and the confidence of ...
MS,
ReplyDeleteYou didn't really say enough to leave a comment on. Except that I don't need much provocation to post comments. I am full of words and I like them. I give them out freely and without remorse.
I will take you advise though. I will try to have a nice time.
Reading other posts like yours, and responding to them.
Thank you for this opportunity to use several of my favorite words.
GOD bless.
Pamela