It just figures that my Sunday cellpic would be a selfie.

It just figures that my Sunday cellpic would be a selfie.


“Oh, no,” murmured Lady Natasha Rambovalina. “Here she comes.” For a woman who was nearly as wide as she was tall, Tata Sous-sus was amazingly fast and lithe on her feet. Walking like a woman with a purpose, she reached Lady Natasha in a few seconds, arm extended with a folded piece of paper in her hand.
“This is for you,” blurted Tata. “Read it now.”
“Would it kill you to be a little more discreet?” Asked Natasha as she snatched the note from Tata’s hand. “What’s this all about?”
“Just read it,” sighed Tata in exasperation.
It read: To my devoted servant- leave my Court now. -P
“What law have I broken,” demanded Lady Natasha. “Why should I leave Court like a thief in the night?”
“I’m just the messenger. I’ve no idea why someone would want you to leave.” Unspoken was the fact that the “someone” was Queen Pirouette.
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