This is the 65th installment of a 100-day challenge to write a new vignette every morning.
He barked orders at his daughters but they just stared back with amusement.
“Take out the trash.” Smirk.
“Wash the dishes.” Smirk.
“Pick up the living room!” Smirk.
His threats to ground them into the next century went unheeded. Raising his voice made things worse. They’d look at him and then look at each other, and he could see he was the punchline to a joke they alone shared.
He told himself he didn’t know why they were behaving this way, but he did. There were no sides—yet—but still the twins had sided with their mother.
Miles Away 