Cursed
by Kirinin
I got a curse. Yeah, an’ it ain’t pretty, either. Wish I could stop it. Wish I could figure some way ‘round it. But there it is, every time I open my mouth. You wouldn’t think it was a curse, would ya? Tellin’ the truth every time no matter what – it might seem like a good thing ta some people, I guess. I mean, honesty's usually a virtue, right? I ain't ever gonna deceive no one, like pops does... Well, that ain’t exactly true either, is it? I mean, I tell her all the time that her thighs are thick and that her cooking’s toxic, and that when it comes to martial arts, she ain’t any good. And this is all true, sorta, in the way that her legs are wider where they connect ta her hips, and in the way that in martial arts, she ain’t ever gonna beat me. Not unless she’s got some super soba or some other trick up her sleeve, that is.
Her cooking really does suck, though.
Problem is, that ain’t the truth I want to tell her at all. Problem is, I wish I could say: I like you. Do you like me back?AUTHOR'S NOTES: There are two ways I put a story together. I over-analyze the plot to an absolutely ridiculous degree before I ever touch pen to paper, or the story appears in my brain fully formed, like Athena from the head of Zeus. This teeny fic falls into the latter category. All of a sudden I thought, Ranma's real curse is putting his foot in his mouth! That's how this ficlet was born. I think, however, that it may be inserted into a longer story someday.
Hope you enjoyed it!
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