The exercise:
Write about something or someone that is: cursed.
This late posting is brought to you by a 11pm to 2am trip to Penticton's hospital and back to make sure everything is okay with Kat and the baby. I'm glad to report that all is well.
Mine:
Terry returned to the table wearing a scowl and the imprint of a hand on his right cheek. The boys nudged each other in the ribs as he retook his seat, undeterred by his muttered threats.
"I think that one might have knocked a tooth loose," Terry said as his tongue examined his dental work. "She swore like a sailor and hit like one too."
"Maybe she was really a he," Harold suggested, much to the amusement of everyone at the table whose name was not Terry. "Maybe next time you ought to make sure before dropping one of your lines, huh?"
"I don't understand what's going on tonight," Terry said, pausing to take a significant taste of his beer. "I've never had any trouble picking up two or three broads in one night. But this... I can hardly get five words out before they unload on me!"
"I warned you about Wendy," Ben said with a solemn shake of his head.
"And I told you that was a load of horse crap," Terry countered.
