The 12-layer Cake

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Please read my story The 12-layer Cake.

Submitted: April 13, 2013

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Submitted: April 13, 2013



The twins were absolutely amazing to look at. They had nice small handful-breasts with big nipples that showed through there tops. They were brunette and had little buttons noses and perfect miniture features. They, when they spoke, always spoke together. They finished off sentences and sometimes even echoed words.

It is the day the twins moved into there new house. There dad had bought it and the twins didn't mind living together. Infact, they were absolutely always giggling mousy giggles when they were together. They knew they were pretty. The new house was a mansion (practically), it had a revolving staircase and in the foyer there was a giant 12-layer chocolate cake. The real estate agents must have bought it.

The two real estate agents, a man and a woman, stood near in cheap loose suits and were engaged in sniggering to themselves. The female real estate agent was thin around the nose and had to much make up on and the male looked embarrasingly boyish. He gawked at the twins every chance he got. The twins were used to it.

The twin's dad smiled and waved the knife in the air gesturing, knife in hand, adding to the sence of "a party". He cut the 12-layer cake with the silver kitchen knife. He had grey hair and a lovely white smile that popped out from his pale indoors-type face. They twins were beautiful their dad thought.

Then the twins heared the real estate agents. They were sniggering and she let out high pitched noises and he hissed nastily words from the corner of his lips. The twins heard some of it and came to realise the two thought there was a ghost in the giant house.

Many a day past and many a time did the sun do a full revolution over the big old house. The twins each evening would eat 12-layer chocolate from plastic chinese take away containers. They curled up with there legs heaved up on the couch and smiled at each other with smiles of pure enjoyment. They talked plenty about there being a posibility of there being a ghost in the house. They would lay in there beds, listening at twelve oclock in the night, and listen when they were drinking scotch in the lounge room. But they never heared a ghost.

They spoke about it in the ezy couches that evening and they came to the conclusion that the real estate agents were genuine about thinking there was a ghost but they (the twins) had discovered otherwise and didn't have anything to worry about.

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