Cluck This, I’m Out
Trimming the lawn was the easy part.
“Could you fucking not,” Geneva hissed, using the massive emery board to bat away another strike. “Stop moving!”
“Everything is okay, dear?” called a heavily accented voice from the kitchen window.
“Yes, Ms. Yaga!”
Next summer it’s back to the ice cream shop, the teen promised herself as she coaxed the house into lifting up one of its enormous chicken feet, regretting that her eccentric client had requested a house pedicure in addition to the lawn manicure. Yard work just isn’t my thing.
About the Creator
Tiffany Mercer
Just your basic, garden-variety fiction dweeb. :-)
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