Friday, 28 August 2015

Fallen Mighty



I had only intended to stare at her sitting dejectedly in the mud for a moment, but after several she glared up at me.

“Are you going to help me or not?”

I had assumed her current predicament would blow some of her attitude away, but there was that same peevish sense of self-entitlement dripping off every syllable.

Still, I found myself helping her to her feet, and then made my best effort to wipe away some of the mud.

She sighed in her usual dramatic way, then shook her head.

“Thanks.”

It was mostly sarcastic, but still an improvement.

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