The Death of Prissi Sue Tout
Prissi Sue Tout tossed the full bag of garbage inside the smelly can, then she froze at the sight of a cute, black kitten. It meowed and rubbed its short, shiny body against the child’s untied tennis shoe.
“Go on, bad luck kitty,” Prissi said as she tied her shoelace. “If Mama sees you, she’ll x all the windows in Kentucky.” Prissi carried the kitty to the front lawn and set it by the curb.
“Prissi, your eggs are getting cold,” Mama called from backdoor. Prissi wiped the sweat from her brow and went inside.
After she dried her hands, Prissi stood on her tippy toes to see the kitty outside the window, but the good luck stuff blocked her view. On the window sill stood a tall, pop bottle filled with pop-tops. Next, stood a tall glass filled with tall stalks of leafy, pea-green bamboo, and last, stood a naked bingo troll with tall, green hair.
Prissi sat before the plate of fried, sunny-side eggs. As the buttery aroma wafted to her freckled nose, the kitten meowed. Prissi’s eyes grew as wide as the egg yolks when she saw her mama mark an imaginary x over the window.