Reads: 26

"But I hate eel! I hate it!" the little girl had cried earlier. "It makes me feel icky inside!'

Now, she struggled with that "icki-ness," her stomach woozy inside, like the turning of a windmill. Her mom, a noble obsessed with dinner at the fine barony next door, forced the silken dress over her daughter's head.

"I do not feel well!" said the little girl at present.

"Now, I told you to hush!" said the mother sternly, her irritated voice betraying her sweetened, elegant exterior, a flowing dress and flowers in her hair making her look like a gentlelady--which she certainly was not. "You must look presentable at the dinner forthwith! I care not how you feel!"

The little girl's mouth opened, and the eel came out on her mother.

Her mother never did learn even after the eel incident to listen to her children, repeating the same selfish behavior until the day of her passing.


Submitted: September 10, 2022

© Copyright 2022 B.J. Vancheyson. All rights reserved.


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