Mascara Black

“His car was found where?” Janice had to sit down. It had been 8 hours since she filed the missing person report on her son, and she had been harassing police officers ever since. Her mascara had run and her hair was beginning to frazzle.

“He wasn’t in it?! Who was!? Where is my son?!” She nearly leapt from her chair. A wave of sudden dizziness crept over her and she leaned back. The concerned butler gave her a glass of icewater. She ignored it.

“Well find him! If he’s not dead, I’m gonna kill him!” She threw the phone across the room. It landed in a giant vase, ‘nothin’ but net’, stealing the satisfying crash she wanted to hear. She chuckled at it. Could one more thing go wrong?

The vase rang. She stared at it, too tired to care. Butler brought her another receiver.


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