The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
by Angela Yuriko Smith
Last Sunday, she caught him wearing a dress.
It hadn’t seemed wrong at the time. He had been balancing the budgets at the kitchen table. She had just come home from a sticky day in church. As she walked through the living room, she pulled her navy and polka dot sundress over her head to drape over the couch. She leaned on the back of it so she could slip her stockings off and toss them over the dress.
“Christ, it’s hot,” she said. “You are lucky men don’t have to wear stockings.” And she left to take a shower.20
He stared at her discarded clothes on the back of a couch. She had walked away pasty and sweating, like a hermit crab without a home. He always had admired her powerful feminine aura. Walking away, flabby white…
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