“Make yourself useful and pass me that book” commanded Anne, as she languidly waved her hand in the direction of the end table.
“What did your last slave die of, overwork”, retorted Mark, as he reached for the book and expertly pitched it onto Anne’s lap.
Six siblings, one year apart, under one roof made for a constant struggle in the family dominance hierarchy.
Kate, charged into the room screaming at it’s three occupants, ” Which of you idiots stole my favorite sweater”.
Anne perked up, ” I believe I saw Mark, preening in front of your dresser, with what I assume was your favorite sweater”.
Mark swore vividly, rose from his seat, right hand zipping a cushion at Anne’s face, left hand snatching the book she was reading, exiting the room, seeking sanctuary from her coming wrath.