Novelas y relatos de Marge Simpson

Fingers intertwined at the bottom of the stairs stood Margaret Bush, the head maid to our family since I learned to talk. Growing up, she was just the maid to me, but after father's death, she became a rock—loving my wounds back to life when my family broke me. Her once jet black hair was now wrapped in a tight bun, sporting a few graying strands at her temples. “Maggie!” My body jerked impatiently as I hobbled down the stairs and into her waiting arms. She was soft and smelled of cotton candy and wild lilies, and for a moment, everything was back to normal.

"What happened here?" Marge Potts looked at Grandma holding me, then at Mom, Dad, and Eli sitting on the floor. She quickly looked around and said, "Y-You're all actually sobbing… Is it possible…" She spoke in a voice that carried a faint but cruel curiosity. Mom jerked her head up and glared at her venomously. She then roared, "Get out! Get out of here this instant!" Marge was caught off guard and took a step back. She quickly edged closer again, standing on her tiptoes to peer into Grandma's arms. "Oh, my goodness! Is that actually Eli?"

So, yeah, that's my short backstory. I walked down the stairs with my backpack in my right hand. And then I sat down on my chair while staring at my food intently in dismay. “Marge, do I really need to eat this thing?” I asked her as she sipped from her coffee mug. “Yes, Honey, it is what they call bacon and eggs.” She answered, and then she stood up to wash her mug and plate at the sink as she had finished her breakfast. “Why do people here eat this kind of sh*t?” I asked her in disbelief, and I crossed my arms on my chest with my eyebrows meeting each other in turmoil.

She looked around herself, and right there in front of the stove, she saw an older, short, and pretty round woman with grey hair and an apron around her neck. "Good morning, dear child, you must be Margaret," she startled Maggie when she strolled across the kitchen and pulled her into her warm, strong embrace. "Good morning," Maggie muttered "You must be Mary, then…" "Yes, I am Mary," she said and moved a step back, holding Maggie for her arms "Let me look at you…" she scanned Maggie with her eyes like x-rays and made a popping sound with her tongue "You are too thin, oh honey, but we will fix that in no time! Come, sit! I made breakfast." Mary pushed Maggie to sit in the chair, and Maggie d

said her father as he slowly chewed his chicken " If so is will she be alright while performing her duties ? " " Father that -" hearing such a question from her father , Lilian was surprised , Even Chelsea was shocked , her father had always trusted Marge what happened now ? . Now , that her father has raised the question , it was indeed time for Marge to retire from her post as the head maid . " What do you mean father ?" said Regulus swiftly " Marge is our family's old maid , she knows her thing ..I believe she will be up and about in no time "

Frey watches Morrigan with a smile as Morrigan sat on one of the footstools by the side of the well. Even with the striking heat of the sun, Morrigan washes the potatoes diligently with the water from the bucket just beside the well. Her sweat dripping from her forehead, but she only wiped it away with the back of her hand. She whisked her pigtails to her back and continue to do her work. Cleaning every potato perfectly and even removing the smallest speck of mud she can see on it. She smiles at every progress she did, finding the job fascinating. Then her smile fades as she remembers it was the first time she smiled ever since her family and Lydia died. She looked up at the sky and then tow

“Mason, welcome. Come in, make yourself comfortable.” Mason turned to face Brie after shaking my hand and saying, "Thanks." “Thank you for the invitation.” "Say thanks?" Michael intervened and gave Mason a shoulder clap. "This is the greatest hospitality you will ever encounter on this side of the globe. You should wait until you try Brie's food. Mason laughed, letting his shoulders drop a little. "Enthusiastic about it." --- The children, particularly Emma and Luca, were intrigued by the unfamiliar face and giggled as they peered around the corner. Mason, I pointed to the gathering and said, "Meet the crew." On the couch, Damien, the oldest, is attempting to appear calm. Dave is our middle

All she felt was gratitude and happiness. Mr. Jones seemed to be a nice man, one of the nicest she had met since her stay here. If the mother was nice, and the father was— summing up looks and courtesy— near perfect, where then did Jackson get his nasty attitude? She was led to the dining room by the man that welcomed them outside the building. His name was Theo and from what Maria noticed, Theo was someone Jackson cared about. Something inside her moved when she watched Jackson hug him. Already sitting on one of the expensively carved chairs was Mrs. Jones, looking as pretty and as young as ever in a red satin dress, Maria couldn't see the rest of it as she was seated. Her lips were a dark

Mary said, drawing back from his outstretched hand. Martha giggled and came closer to him. "Hi! I'm Martha, but my friends call me Marti." She said shaking his hand. Mary scrunched her nose and looked at her sister like she was crazy. "Oh! You actually have bacon grease all over your chin." Martha squealed as she tugged at his chin.

Marge made a face as she squeezed my hand. Marge did not work at Cypress Narrative. She was a stay at home mum, married to a millionaire husband who was a top executive in his company. We had met at the school tour, while I was still deciding on which school to enroll Ollie, and we hit it off like we had been friends our previous life. And after several play dates between her son, Drew, and Ollie, we practically became inseparable. I would miss her the most, especially our ‘adult’ sleepovers whenever her husband went on his business trips.