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Cosmetically Yours

Perhaps it was because, The Grownups Wanted Us Dead, that my cousin Rumble and I behaved the way we did. We were emulating our elders and rehearsing for the day we would be grownups ourselves. Rumble and I practiced the art of torture through the innovative use of many common, ordinary weapons things — like eyeshadow.

Rumble loved his car. I don’t know why. It was a banged up beater. A Dodge Dart well past the age of darting anywhere. Still, he washed it, petted it, polished it and praised it. Most days — since my car was really Gram’s car — Rumble drove me to college. He sometimes took my friends Carla and Susan as well. He provided me with a key to the trunk of his car so I could switch out books between classes, but he refused to supply me with a key to the door. He said he didn’t trust me — bad mistake. By not trusting me, he gave me permission to be untrustworthy. I mean, it wasn’t like I was going to disappoint him, right?

The complete Rumble Stories:

The P.B. & J. Sandwich (part 1)

Bright, Shiny Red (part 2)

Tea Time (part 3)

Cosmetically Yours (part 4)

Quilly is the pseudonym of Charlene L. Amsden, who lives on The Big Island in Hawaii. When she is not hanging out with Amoeba, she is likely teaching or sewing. Or she could be cooking, taking photographs, or even writing. But if she's not doing any of that, she's probably on Facebook or tinkering with her blog.


  1. LOL! Shoot! I left the comment over on the story! Oh well — I’ll say it here too — even if ya had to walk home, I think YOU got the BEST of this deal! ROFL!

  2. Melli — I don’t care which blog you comment on; one, the other or both. Just comment. And if you think I got the best of him this week, you will love the next installment!

  3. Silver — Happy Easter to you — and all.

    Dr. John — like you, I just want a cooment. You may leave it either place and make me happy. Sorry I haven’t been by your place. My company is keeping me too busy to even monitor my own blog much.

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