Carol-a short story

By malloukers

At first I figured Carol was as old as my grandmother because the yellow-tinted white dress she wore every other day emitted a smell of stale sweet potatoes and perfume too old to even have a name. However, I later discovered that Carol was only a mere five months older than my mother—a healthy fifty-four. Fifty-four was quite the odd age to be attending college—community college that is. But who am I to judge? I’m here at age twenty-seven.

Today was Tuesday, the day when Carol would wear her other outfit, a light pink tweed dress suit complete with shoulder-pads, bejeweled buttons, and a white ribbon she tied in a neat bow and attached to the breast pocket. This particular dress suit emitted a similar smell to the white dress, but had a new hint of lemon Febreze added to it since last Thursday. I figured this new lemon Febreze addition had something to do with the anonymous note that was left on her locker last week that read in bold, black sharpie, “PLEASE SHOWER BEFORE MY EYES BURN OUT OF THEIR SOCKETS”. I immediately felt guilty when that lemony smell hit my nostrils last Thursday. No, I didn’t write the note. But I didn’t take it down after I clearly saw it on Wednesday night after my French 101 class. I would have ripped it down, but I’m guilty to admit that my eyes have already been well burnt-out by Carol’s suit. I not only sit near her on Mondays and Wednesdays, but she is also my partner on Tuesdays like today in my “Understanding Business” class. However, it was now 2:15 and Carol was not sitting on her usual stool, hunching beside me. This was odd, considering she hadn’t missed one of Professor Rubyan’s classes yet.

Carol-a short story

Created: Feb 05, 2010


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