A Bad Word

In the living room, #4 and #7 had a disagreement. Nothing abnormal there. Siblings are bound to fight every thirty minutes or so.

“No! It’s my turn,” #4 shouted.

A sibling fight is like the weather. Sometimes they are fair, while other times they are foul.

Weather is brewing.

Weather is brewing.

“You un assss-ole!” #7 snapped.

And then, every once in a while, we get an earthquake.

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