It was parked taking up two spots. Theresa took an extra long inhale through her pinched nostrils and continued creeping up the block looking for a spot. Only her idiot sister would park her already oversized Tahoe so selfishly on a street where parking was so dear. Bitch. No, Theresa, the soothing voice said, Sabrina wasn’t thinking about you when she parked, this isn’t personal. Deep Breaths. But that’s the point right? Sabrina never thinks about anyone, she just expects the world to adapt to her. Even her goddamn vanity plate was a burden to passersby and fellow drivers. God knows how many people racked their brains deciphering 2P8. Live to paint. Please! There’s an “n” in the word, pate doesn’t even make sense. Or maybe it did, Sabrina hadn’t made an honest painting since discovering Photoshop. Back to the breath. Breathe. Theresa needed to focus on parking. She needed to get her ass to her parents’ anniversary party before her lateness became the big topic.
8 min at the dining table, 4.2.13
inspiration: vanity license plate on the Allen expressway
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