Margo Daust

I hid behind a stack of crates, then scanned the deck. I was going to get my story from all points of view.

I smoothed my hair, pinned my mothers cameo at my neck, and tied a peach sash (which I keep folded and tucked in one of my stockings) around my waist. I slipped into the thick french accent I usually don't have (except for when I'm actually speaking french)  then walked confidently toward a group of people I assumed to be first class.

"Hello." I flashed a smile. "Such a lovely day, is it not?"


The End

101 comments about this exercise Feed