This reblog has been waiting for Halloween! Ewe!
It was late. Kinsey was irritable and frankly, downright angry. Here it was, close to seven o’clock when she wanted to be watching the season finale of Runway, and she was at Target. Her two best friends hadn’t done their part for the science fair project they’d been assigned. “Why do I always have to be the reliable one?” She directed this question to a rather large shopper who was blocking the isle, his cart full of cereal boxes and gasoline. “What the hell is he doing?” she thought, as she maneuvered around his pockmarked and ridiculous expression. She ignored his attempt to tell her a knock-knock joke and hurried past the hypodermic needle display.
A cold sweat broke on Kinsey’s forehead and traveled down her chest and back. Her arms became weak and shaky and she pushed her cart to one side to take stock of her situation. Tinsey…
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