Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-33904527-20190828230926

“Mom, look!”

“Not now, you little shit, Mommy’s watching the baseball.”

George’s mother slouched half-drunk on the living room armchair; her unshaved legs splayed outwards onto the stained coffee table. A glass of cheap wine lay idle in her hand, though her breath stunk of alcohol as it wafted between her yellowish teeth. Last night’s baseball game was still playing on the ancient television set, barely visible through the thick cigarette smoke that floated through the room.

“But Mom, it’s important!”

She sighed deeply. Taking another long drag of her cigarette, she tilted her head back and moaned silently to herself. Small piles of ash began to sprinkle onto her unwashed bathrobe.

“Fuckin hangover…” She muttered sleepily. “Alright, bring it here if it’s so damn important.”

George rushed into the room, carrying a large cake in his arms. He smiled warmly as his mother’s glassy eyes stared him up and down. Errant strands of rapidly greying hair were stuck to her face with smeared make-up.

“Happy Mother’s Day! I made it just for you! It’s your favourite: black forest cake with cream, dark chocolate icing, and cherries on top. Here, try a slice!”

George held up a small plate of cake as his mother looked down at him with a disdainful expression.

“Whoever heard of a Mother’s Day cake?” She cackled, letting a brief smile spread over her face. With the last drag of her cigarette, she blew smoke in George’s face, before extinguishing it in the cake’s icing.

“Nice try, kiddo.”

George kept his head low as he moped back to the kitchen, cake still in hand.

“She’s too smart for me…” He remarked as he scraped it into the wastebin, along with the empty bottle of rat poison. 