Kat insists that this week's Friday Four Line Prose be about: cookies.
And who am I to argue?
Also: the opening ceremonies were rather impressive tonight.
Emily slipped silently into the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the light. She paused on her tiptoes and listened hard, her eyes scrunched up and her ears wide open.
Not hearing any movement from the floor above where her parents were sleeping, she allowed a wide smile to appear on her lips, her white teeth appearing in the darkness as though she were the Cheshire Cat.
The cookie jar was all hers.