Mr. Rempel

On Wednesday, she got a panicked call from day care.

“Miss Evans, come pick up your daughter,” a woman brusquely said. “We’re not equipped to deal with situations like this.”

“With what?” Jill asked, her heart quickening.

“This—this—drawing that Chelsea did.” The voice sounded deeply offended. “It’s scaring the other children.”

Jill’s throat went dry. Her hand stabbed into her purse for her car keys, then she rushed out.

By the time she arrived, Chelsea was already standing outside Little Friends Day Care with her Minnie Mouse lunchpail, singing under her breath. Mrs. Redmond, the owner, was waiting too. The stout, normally friendly woman looked shaken.





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)