Wednesday, 8 January 2014

3. Penelope (Stream of Ratchetness)

She stared, scrutinising her bathroom mirror twin, edging closer and wincing. This blemish deserved its own passport and driver's licence. She would call it Molly, she thought. Molly Bloom.
A pretty name for a wretched thing. A giggle broke reluctantly from her now smirking reflection. She would leave her alone. Let her sleep, then emigrate. One more day, she thought. Just one more day.

They juss popped atta like pop pop pop They dint een ledduh say nuttun they just shot atta Me and my boys was juss looking out like yooo Fuh real though these bitches just gon pop atta like that Nawr that aint right That just aint rightchyo It was juss lucky I had Chrissy come pick up the baby this morninorelse that cuddabin her that cuddabin my kid You know cuz she like to play outinnis weatha when the boys over and we in the house Nawr That juss aint right

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