Written in response of word of the day.

‘You foist this unfair rule on me, and I’m not allowed to argue.’

‘Not if you want to live under my roof. What are you thinking of doing, hoarding your own collection of bowls, knives, and forks in your room. then we need to have rules.’

‘It’s my room!’

‘This plate,’ she picked up the plate, mixed in with dirty clothes on the floor. ‘Has mould on it. I need you to clean your room, or I will I stop your allowance. Do you hear me?’

‘If I must,’ Molly said.

Picking up each item of clothing, she threw them in the basket provided by her mum. A yellow top, with stripes. It’s been a while since she saw that. An hour later and she reviewed her efforts.

Maybe her mum was right – She hadn’t realised how many items of cutlery she had in room, and she wondered where that smell was coming from. Several items thrown in the bin, there was only a small amount of washing that could take that grime of those plates.

The door opened, and Molly’s Mum smiled.

‘You need to bring these plates down and wash them up.’

‘I suppose, but I need a raise in my allowance.’

Published by writerravenclaw

I am a fifty something mother of two grown up children, and one beautiful grandchild. I have been married for nearly thirty-four years. My first book was published ten years ago. I wrote my book Sticks and Stones because of my experience of being bullied at school.

2 thoughts on “Foist

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