SATIRE

I Can Finally Call Her a Twat

The wait is over

Claire Franky
5 min readNov 7, 2024

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Women throwing arms in the air out of joy.
Definitely a confetti moment. Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

The heavy rain slapped the top of my head and rolled down my forehead. I winced at its attack. Maybe if I hadn’t tweezed my eyebrows off as a teenager, they would have stopped the rainwater from filling my eyes.

“Sammy!” I yelled, tugging on the leash.

He trotted behind me, taking his time as the surprise rainstorm ravaged our coatless bodies.

I upgraded my march to a run as we neared our house, pulling the dog along behind me, when her car came tearing around the corner up ahead. The silver SUV tore through the puddles and accelerated towards us.

“Fucking Cruella,” I shouted into the rain as I ran back to Sammy and tugged on his harness.

Mud splattered my leggings as we stumbled into the grass at the side of the road. I turned to look at the car as it pulled into the farmyard, making our splash in the swampy grass unnecessary.

I let out a cry in frustration and cursed the pissing clouds above.

Opposite my house is a small farm. The owner of the farm rents out the barns to horsey bastards to house their horses. There are two entrances to the horse barns — one right before my house and one thirty feet past my house. Most of the horsey fucks use their…

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Claire Franky
Claire Franky

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