“I tell you what”, she exclaimed with an annoying cackle in her throat,

“Why don’t we get shit faced tonight, it’s our big night after all

and we don’t care do we eh girls?”

The cackle spread to each of the six women like a domino

being tipped over by the last, and yet the women were surprisingly

over the age of discontent and then the phones came out to play.

The fingers danced over the tiny keys as if they had trained

all their lives in the art of pocket sized puppetry