The floozy next door thought she was perfect. Mia could tell by the way she smiled and let out that noise she called a laugh. It was nauseating and often accompanied by a playful hand on your shoulder.
Today there was some kind of shindig. Her overly bleached hair was piled on her head. She pranced down her drive with a glass of red in hand.
Mia’s husband ventured, like a moth to a boozy flame. The floozy’s red nails slid over his shoulder as her laugh trilled through the air.
Mia grabbed the hose, “I’ll take care of this.”
Word Count: 100
For Friday Fictioneers (greatly inspired by Patsy of AbFab)
People might gravitate toward the floor, but it looks like Mia’s the life of the party.
Oh yeah, she definitely adds that element of unpredictability. Thank you