Do Not Double Cross Trixie

One is on her way. I watch her glide by, as if she is a professional skater. She does not glance my way. You missed her! Trixie hisses. Trixie is my muse. Her hazel eyes are flashing. I sense she is angry with me. I will get the next one, I assure her. But there is a distraction. The next idea slides past, giggling incessantly! “That is two!” Trixie hisses. She has never seemed more snake-like. I hear her stomp away, and a door slams. She begins playing her tuba. I know now that I am in big trouble. You don’t want to double cross Trixie a third time.