Popcorn by Neila Mezynski

The pot bellied lady pointed, laughed at the tongue wagging nut.  She did her usual shuffle ball heel with looks could kill. Exuberance sway backed lady, act your age. Rolling eyeballs at the beach, in the gallery, at the top of the stairs. He stared in disbelief, trying to read lips. These lips ain’t talkin’. Loud.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: