Today's Blogtember topic: Creative writing day: write a (very short) fictional story that starts with this sentence: "To say I was dreading the dinner party would be the understatement of the century."
To say I was dreading the dinner party would be the understatement of the century.
The months of preparation and planning, the endless trips to Whole Foods in search of the perfect tomatoes, all with the potential to be ruined in a heartbeat by one person.
Miss Fussy, the wife of one of the partners at Jason's firm, was the kind of woman for whom nothing was good enough and who had the ability to crush dreams with one off the cuff quip.
Having Jill round for dinner was enough to strike fear into the hearts of men and women alike. So, it was with much trepidation that I put the wine to chill, lay the table and plumped up the last of the lounge cushions, all the while wondering if the pasta sauce would taste too strongly of garlic.
It was then that I spotted it, curled up by the log basket.
I took a deep breath and crept closer, only to hear the tell tale sound of a patent stiletto sashaying up the front drive.
This post is part of Blogtember, the brainchild of Jenni over at Story of My Life.
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