I wish they’d never invented Morality Day.
“Go apologize to Helen,” my shoulder angel insisted, poking my cheek.
“Go TP her house,” my shoulder demon grinned, twisting my earlobe.
“Leave her a plate of cookies,” the angel added, tugging my hair.
“Smash a carton of eggs on her door,” the demon smirked, kicking my collarbone.
“STOP IT!” I shouted, hurling them away. “I hate both of you!”
I stormed off, and for one blissful moment, I had peace. Then…
“I think you should apologize to me,” the angel sniffed.
“I think you should kick her off again,” the demon grinned.
Author’s Note: What if you literally had to deal with shoulder angels and demons once a year, every year? I think it would be very annoying.
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