Bella and the Flake

Bella blew past the surface splash of
announcing her new job to her parents.

“It’s going to be great,” she gurgled as
she took the last sip of a lukewarm latte.
“I get to ride a motorcycle and breathe in
the wide-open spaces!”

Her father’s eyes glassed over.
They’d all been here before.
Her mother crossed her arms.

Bella belted it out. “It’s like the old pony
express! Jake says it pays great and
we’ll split it 50-50! Live on the open road!”

“You’ll eat tumble weed for breakfast,” her
father yawned.
“Jake is a flake,” her mother stated.

“It’s called ‘Prairie Schooner News,’ and
it’s old school. We’ll be off-line. Kewl, huh?!”

“You’re a sucker,” ...Dad’s assessment.
“Jake is a snake,” ...her Mom’s.

“...but...but...this is different. Jake
couldn’t have known that leather was
pleather when he sold it to the cop.”

Her dad rolled his eyes.
Her mom did, too.

Bella and the Flake

“...and...and...Jake is a real brain.

He thinks up the neatest things!
Remember when he went scuba
diving? He gave lessons!” Bella was
on a roll.

“His students got the bends,” ...Dad.
“He’s a fake.” ...Mom.

“He’s a sweetheart! ...and so smart!
...and he lo-o-ves me!” Bella was sinking.

“Have you been smoking that
tumble-weed?” ...her father.

“Jake’s a rake!” ...her mother.

“There he is now! Ple-e-ease be
nice to him!”

Va-rooom!!!