Be careful what you wish for- you just might get it.
When she’d wished the words would come, she supposed she wasn’t specific enough. Suddenly, they were overflowing from the sink, dripping down the cabinets; they were forcing the refrigerator door open. They collected like dust in the corners of the living room and the hallway. She found them in her hair as she washed it, and flittering in her truck like fireflies as she traveled country roads.
They weren’t the words she meant. But beggars can’t be choosers.
So she diligently gathered her broom and dust pan, her gloves and rags, and got to work.
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