Ficlets

Crusty Ol'Bag

I know she was an old lady, dear reader, but I nearly punched the ol’bag in the face! She sure did give me a fright, and I was never one who liked to be startled.
“She seems a little, you know,” I touched my temple with a circling finger and stopped as the old woman said,
“I’m old, but i’m not deaf, missy!”
“Well then, maybe you can tell us who you are before we come in with you?” I tried, crossing my arms.
“Oh you can stay out here all you want, but it gets cold at night, and me and my arthritis have very little patience for mouthy punks needing a hot meal,”
Charlie looked at me and shrugged, “Food sounds good. And if my brother trust her…”
“Trusts me?” The old coot laughed, “If not for me, the sonofabitch would be lost; now get in before i drag you by your ears.. or don’t but make up your damn minds!”
“Come on,” Charlie frowned.
I tapped him on the shoulder, smiling, “I like her!” i admitted.
“Do you have names?” the ol’lady asked us.
“I’m Wendy and this is Charlie!”
“Dolly’s my name,”
“You’re kidding?”

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