‘You’re what?’
‘Dating.’
‘You’re brother and sister!’
‘Not by blood.’
‘You’ve lived together since you were five.’
‘That’s why we know we’re perfect together.’
‘Perfect? It’s incest!’
‘Brian, stop shouting.’
‘Seriously, Cath, our son is fucking our daughter and you’re worried about me shouting?’
‘Technically, they’ve done nothing illegal; they have different parents.’
‘We’re their parents!’
‘Look, it might seem strange, Dad, but we’re twenty-three. We’re not kids.’
‘You’re acting like kids.’
‘You don’t have to like it, but you don’t get a say.’
‘Really? Either you end this madness or I’ll disown you both.’
‘Brian!’
‘Fine. Sally?’
‘Let’s go.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.
1 comment:
Now, that's an odd turn of events, Rob, although I can imagine how it might be possible in today's blended families. It's a really interesting dilemma, too! You capture it well.
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