Rice Pudding // The Shortest of Shorts

++

"A little cup of rice pudding can cure all my woes," she said, a mug snuggled to her nose, warming her tear stained face.
"All your woes," he asked, smirking, a bit too skeptical for her taste.
"Yes, all of them."  She was the kind of girl who would rather curl up on the couch in her father's thick woolen socks than go to the movies.  He was the kind of boy who would skeptically question the healing properties of food, but would sit on the couch with her, occasionally tickling her sides to cheer her up.
That day wasn't so very much of anything.  There was a little bit of sunshine, but a couple clouds.  There were tear-stained cheeks, but there were smiles.
But a home that smells like vanilla and milk and pudding rice is a home with a future.  Methodically stirring the pan she imagined all the things that she had hoped for but would no longer have, but it's true that a little cup of rice pudding can cure all woes.

In an effort to tell better stories: (the shortest of shorts) little tidbits of life, characters, and make-believe. Follow them here.

Road Trip // The Shortest of Shorts

++  She sat in the front seat, her worn green plaid pulled over her wrists, and her legging-ed legs criss cross applesauced.  He had on his fur flap hat, just because, even though it was plenty warm in the car.  They weren't in the habit of making unnecesary stops, so they munched quietly away at a bag of baby carrots for breakfast.  And then somewhere between lunch, and the third cup of coffee, the words came naturally.  Before she could realize what they meant, somewhere between mile marker two-hundred and twelve, and the second-to-last song on the playlist, the word "love" slipped out between "I" and "you".



In an effort to tell better stories: (the shortest of shorts) little tidbits of life, characters, and make-believe. Follow them here.