Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26027963-20150510193705

I put my baby down for a nap in the nursery's crib, and ran downstairs. I joined the rest of the gala, drinking cocktails and talking about random stuff that happened since the last time we saw each other. Classic party conversation.

I'm mostly talking to Alan, the cook. Talking about what we were having tonight (some kind of meat, I'm too high to remember), how long he had been cooking, if he was single (like I said, I'm high). He told me to get out when I started to blunder around. He only got me out when he splashed water at me (that snapped me back to a non-high reality).

Having no where else to go, I went to the bathroom to freshen up before dinner.

By the time I was done, I came back to the dining room and took a seat. We cheers, and all dig in. It was an amazing meal. The meat was full of taste and texture, I've never had that kind of meat!

Speaking of feeding times;

"Excuse me, I have to go feed my babe."

I walked upstairs, and back into the nursery. I slowly peeked over the crib. Then I realized what the meat was.

Because the baby wasn't there.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment below! 