Sunday, March 4, 2012
one hundred word story #96: Santa Barbara
So we're sitting around eating shish kabobs when Toya announces that the truck on the corner has a bed full of ice. "Dirty snow," she says. Half the house gets on its feet. I am still eating when Allie stuffs a snowball down my shirt. Ten minutes later, there’s a trail of snow prints on the kitchen floor, a miniature snowman (with orange peel arms) outside the front door, and ten wet housemates. Allie and I rendezvous to ambush JC. I launch a snowball into his room. It lands in his underwear drawer. Some things are too perfect to plan.