Photo #4
She watched the door on the roof waiting for a hunky fireman to come
through and rescue her. She was no fool. If she couldn't have that over
tanned ego that now lay under six feet of over manicured soil, she could
at least get herself distracted by a hunk of hot fireman flesh.
Unfortunately, it was not a stud in uniform that burst through the
creaky door, but old Norma, huffing like she was about to blow two or
three houses down.
Rose could not hide her disappointment. Norma, for her part, made a show of being hurt by the lack of warm welcome.
"Well honestly Rosie, I never! I came all the way up," she stopped to catch her breath, and this is the thanks I get?
"Oh
take a breath Norma can come on and sit down," Rose dangled her feet
over the ledge, imagining that old Hank was trying to get a look up her
skirt. Only, she realized, she was wearing stretch jeans. It was that
moment that she decided she was going to invest in a new cocktail dress.
She couldn't take another day of being so goddamn unglamorous!
Norma galumphed over, dragging her body like it was dead weight and
practically fell over on Rose trying to sit down. In fact, Rose was
pretty sure she had a new bruise on her think skinned shoulder thanks to
Norma's death grip.
"Now Rose," Norma said in a loving, if exasperated voice, "what on
earth are you doing up here? Poor old Henry's about to come undone down
there."
Rose thought about it for a minute. She pursed her lips
together and twisted her mouth to one side like she had done since she
was a toddler.
"I don't exactly know Norma. I just can't stand not to have adventures anymore I guess."
Norma nodded, sighed, and for once didn't say anything back.
"You know what I was thinking?" said Rose.
Norma looked at her with raised dyed on eyebrows where Rose supposed she once might have had actual hair.
"I think it's high time we got ourselves to Burning Man." And on cue, that's when the door burst open again.
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