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My Cousin, The Rabbit
Published by Thunder Valley Press
Copyright 2013 by Annie Reed
I was balancing my morning coffee and a bag of donuts in one hand and fumbling with the key to my office with the other when my cell phone rang.
I’m not a morning person. I’m also not the world’s greatest cook. Even though I live in the apartment upstairs from my office, I go out most mornings for coffee and something my mother would not approve of as breakfast food. So when I recognized the ring tone I’d assigned to my mother — a snazzy little number that sounded like the music from Psycho right about the time Anthony Perkins goes gonzo on Janet Leigh with a knife in the shower — my first reaction was to drop the bag of donuts like a hot potato.
What? Donuts? Not me, mom. I’m going upstairs to fix myself sprouts and granola right this minute.
Not that I had sprouts and granola in my apartment. I barely had enough food for my cat.
The bag split open when it hit the sidewalk, spilling all that sugary goodness on the wet concrete. So much for breakfast. At least I still had my coffee.
I managed to get the office door unlocked and my cell phone out of my pocket before the call rang over to voicemail.
“Your cousin’s missing,” my mother said before I could even croak out a hello.
(end of sample)
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