This one is an ode to those of us who loved the idea of a party, but had issues with the actual practice. Written for this weeks event on The Writer’s Mess, which is Birthday/Birth/Adoption/Death. For prompts I used the picture below, and this week no additional prompts.
Evelyn was not having a good day, which was sad, because it was her birthday. Her mother had made the party perfect, and forced Evelyn into a beautiful dress that a thousand little girls would die for. All Evelyn noticed was that the elastic in the arms was too tight, it was scratchy on her legs when she sat, and when she spun it did not twirl.
It was also overly warm, and was making Evelyn increasingly cranky as the day wore on. By the time the platter of cupcakes came out, Evelyn was done with this whole birthday thing. As the lights lowered and the voices raised Evelyn wanted to cry. All the voices began to scream for her to blow out the candles, and when the balloon popped, Evelyn screamed too.
Notes: FYI, I can practically feel that dress, and turning 35 this week I still will not buy a dress that doesn’t twirl. I do not see the point in it.