In the sepulchral half-light, behind a fortress of tall paper stacks, the crackling tapping endures: Fast, slow, shuffle, sudden dry slap.
“Found it!” A light clicks on, illumines a circle above. A rectangular shadow appears and shifts amid crisp rustling.
“What the hell is code 2 for box 10b on IRS form 6666?” a heinous curse word erupts, with a paper blizzard as Princess Kittycat launches from the tallest stack. She knows what’s coming–right after the wracking sobs.
A friendly hand offers a plated slice of carrot cake over the wall of the tax-time fortress.
Decaf to follow.
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2018)
Carrot Ranch Prompt (03/16/18): In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about carrot cake. It can be classic or unusual. Why is there cake? How does it feature in the story. Go where the prompt leads.
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I’m still figuring out the Daylight Savings time! Tax time — yikes! Having wandered across state lines — makes a fine mess worthy of needing cake.
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May I suggest an Irish Decaf to celebrate each state? 😮
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Hmm, yes, I’ll raise a mug to that suggestion!
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Oh ouch! I did a rough estimate of my tax liability this morning. I’m gonna be donating a goodly chunk of change to Mr. Trump’s parade.
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Now , more than ever, we’d like to see our tax dollars used for good, rather than frivolity. 😦
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Ha! An appropriate and appreciated use of carrot cake.
(I don’t think I have ever used the word sepulchral; and no one has used it like you just did. Cool)
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Thank you!
Sepulchral and taxes go together like peanut butter and jelly, Rowan and Martin, corned beef and cabbage… 😀
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Good thing our tax time was simple. I organized, categorized, and summarized down to the list of numbers, our CPA only needed to copy on his computer. Did most of the chatting when he was entering the numbers.
Good luck for your tax return!
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