Ficlets

shopping

“We’re going to have to change that,” she smirked. Her wrinkled face re-focuesd on the magazine in her hadns. Dewey stood there dazed, and counted the hours until his ‘feeding’ time would occur, as mrs. s put it. Her long red-painted finernails scraped against the wooden table. As she tortured him with her mere prescence. “Dewey,” she said starting to get up, “schedule a shopping spree next week, you need to build some muscles.” She looked down at his skinny arms. He felt her eyes pirecing through his body. “That’s all,” she said sitting back down in her chair.
Dewey exited the room as quiet as a mouse, and swiftly made his way to the bedroom in the east wing. The ‘cold wing’ as he referred to it as. The vents are been broken for as long as he could remember and he could never fix them. He wouldn’t dream of it. Dewey draped his arm over the railing as he trudged down the hallway to his room. On his door it was tacked as it always was. After there daily outings. There on the door, was the list.

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