We’re heading home to RI for the weekend for the screening of Chris’ short film, “Balance,” on Sunday night, so posts will be sparse. (And NaNo will most likely be ignored entirely. 50,000 words seems like a pipe dream at the moment.)
But we went to the grocery store the other night, bringing back a number of those rustly plastic PriceRite bags and setting them on the kitchen floor. Focusing on putting away the groceries as quickly as possible, we didn’t notice that the bags were rustling even when we weren’t touching them.
“Turn around,” Chris said.
And I looked down to see this:
She looks so hopeful, like she thought there would be a whole chicken dinner waiting at the bottom of this bag. Poor Siah.