“Don’t make me count to three,” my mother warned.
Make her? Why would I make her? And if I do then what happens? Does the sky fall down- is that why she doesn’t want me to make her do it? Or worse- is three like a code signal for the alien invaders who are hanging back, just waiting for her to say the word?
“One,” she began, hands fixed on her hips.
Better not risk it, I thought, jumping down off my bike. The fate of the world might be riding on me.
Have a great day!