Straightening up, she put one hand on her lower back, groaning softly.
She shouldn’t have overdone it, but the result was so satisfactory. Three hours was all it had taken and she could smile now.
The door slammed. Footsteps pounded up the stairs. She turned, smiling, just as Vijay walked in the door and stopped, open-mouthed. Her smile froze when she saw his eyes widen in horror.
“Mom what have you done?!”
“Just cleaned your room, young man. You could say ‘Thank you’,” she reproached.
“Great! I’ll never find anything now! I have a system, mom! It’s called organized chaos!”
Welcome to The Moving Quill!
For this year’s A to Z Challenge, I’ve taken up the theme of
An Oxymoron rendered in micro-fiction.
Each day’s title will have one half of the oxymoron while the second half will be revealed towards the end of the post.
Follow me as I unravel each tale in exactly 100 words.