
| Prism
Author: Jazzy-Baby Aren't words just so much fun? A story about a girl who can't quite seem to keep her words straight.
Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Humor/Friendship - Words: 564 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 1 - Published: 01-27-09 - Status: Complete - id: 2627788
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A/N: Just a little something I came up with. One shot, no point except for how stupid my friends and I are 'cause I can totally imagine this happening.
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Ring. Ring. Ring. I sigh and lift myself out of bed. Who could be calling me at this time of night? "Hello?" I pick up the phone and say.
"Fanny?" A small voice on the other line pipes up after a few moments of silence.
I groaned. There was only one person on the entire face of the earth that still called me Fanny ten years after high school graduation. "What do you need Kathy?" I asked tiredly.
The blond cleared her throat. "I need you to come pick me up."
"Where are you?" I rubbed my temples with my free hand; trying to will away the headache that I knew was coming.
"Prism."
My lips tightened as I tried to hold in the laughter that was threatening to burst from deep within me. With a strained voice I asked. "Prism? Don't you mean prison?" When no one answered I held the phone away from my ear and looked at it before pressing it back to the side of my head. "Kathy?" I listened hard and heard a soft clicking noise coming from the other end of the conversation, a tell tale sign that the blond was laughing. "And anyway," I continued, "I'm sure you're just at the police station."
"Oh yeah." The dreamy voice said and I could just picture the young woman standing at the police station with the black plastic phone held to her ear, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression on her face. "So, can I catch a ride?" The casualty in her tone shocked me.
"Hold on now, Kathy." I said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Why exactly are you at the police station?"
Kathy laughed again. "It's a funny story."
"Everything's a funny story to you Kathy." I pointed out as I studied my fingernails in the dim light.
"But this one really is." She whined. I sighed but let her continue. "Okay, so I was walking home from the store with a few arsenic-"
I cut her off with, "Poison?! Kathy why did you have poison?"
"Huh?" I could hear the confused expression that often settled on her pale face. "Oh shoot. I always use the wrong word. I meant arsenal cans."
Chuckling I corrected her. "I think you mean aerosol cans Kathy. Was it spray paint?" A hasty agreement came from the ear piece of my wireless phone. "Go on." I prompted.
She cleared her throat again. "Well I saw some graffiti on a wall near the skate park and it just looked like so much fun…" Her sentence trailed off and I sighed.
"I'll be right there." Keys. I looked around and finally spotted the shiny items sticking out of one of my coat pockets in the closet. Kissing my husband I slid into my coat and left the house.
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A/n: Okay, my friend is Fanny, and yes I do actually call her either that or Fanny Mae. She loves me for it. I was Kathy because I act offended when one of my friends calls me my actual name and reprimand her, telling her that my name is Kathy McPhishphace or something like that.
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