David Bravo

Guilty Pleasure

It was a sunny day in Los Angeles, California. The birds were splashing in the sprinkler puddles while the family dog lapped at the water on the pavement. A black car parked on the driveway. A woman stepped out and walked into her home from work with an exhausted look on her face. She walks in to find her son, raving angrily because his job has him stressed out. The father ignored them both as he typed on his computer, working on his presentation. Before she went to take a shower, the mom left a cardboard box, gently wrapped in ornate maroon tissue paper, on the kitchen table.