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.
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Oh yeah, she definitely adds that element of unpredictability. Thank you
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