Matching Reds

(c) Sonya

I find my baby sister’s clothes stashed away in my wardrobe. Did she hide them here after her meltdown?

‘I didn’t notice the hot pants’ red is too orangey, it clashes with the shirt’s flower print. Look!’ she wailed.

‘You’d look stunning in sackcloth.’ Being the ugly duckling who never turned into a swan, I hated saying it. I’m glad I did.

But she insisted she’d nothing to wear and called off her date. I’d suspected the guy was bad news. He proved it by slicing her open.

Her spilt blood on the asphalt would have matched the flower print.

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