Trouble followed Larissa. She visited the bank; it got robbed. Went out to dinner; the chef’s kitchen ignited. The Randall’s asked she babysit. She did not expect it would go well.
Little Trevor complied perfectly, until bedtime.
“Read,” Trevor begged. Just her luck, every book Larissa found was unreadable through crayon scribble. Trevor chanted, “Read, read!”
Linda snapped. “There once was a little boy who would not go to bed, so a dinosaur ate him.”
The window burst. She saw gargantuan jaws, heard chomp. Then it was gone.
So was Trevor.
Larissa knew she should not have taken this job.
Author’s note: I thought, what if someone was very unlucky, what with they do with it all. Here, Larissa means well, is doing well, until she pretty much wishes her own bad luck into existence.