These are two short stories written from prompts on my FB Creative Writing group. I'm really having fun doing these. They are written quickly and not 'polished'. Enjoy!
Prompt:
She realised something was wrong as soon
as she opened the door……
Thank goodness she was
home. It had been a long and demanding day both physically and mentally. She
hated working a Saturday shift. Why didn’t people visit their GP’s during the normal
working week when their ingrowing toenails and haemorrhoids actually played
them up rather than stoically storing it all up for the walk-in centre on a
Saturday? Their stoicism didn’t last
till the weekend, did it? Oh no. Come Saturday afternoon it suddenly became
unbearable and there they all were, lined up in front of her window, whinging
and moaning that the queue was longer than that at Asda and they needed to get
home before the old man got back from football. Still, she was home now. She rooted
through her bag for her front door key, minutes away from a nice cup of tea. She
was on a promise tonight. Not that! Sixty was too old for that sort of promise.
At their age it needed planning. She snorted in affectionate amusement. No –
Gerry had promised to cook tonight so she could put her feet up and be treated
like a Queen. She found her key at last. It was funny that no-one had realised
she was there – they were usually alert for her bus going past having dropped
her off. She realised something was wrong as soon as she opened the door.
Darkness. Darkness and silence. All the doors from the hallway were closed and
the usual sounds of the TV downstairs and a ghetto blaster from the boys
upstairs were missing. Worst of all, not even the dog was there to meet her
with his silly smile and wagging tail. She stood stock still and breathed
shallowly.
‘Hello?’
Her voice sounded a
little lost against the density of the waiting silence, too thin to do more
than scratch its surface. She tried again;
‘Gerry? Boys?
Butch?’
Her ears pricked as she
thought she heard a distant whine, instantly cut short. What to do? Should she
phone the police? How foolish would she feel if they all turned up, lights
flashing, sirens wailing, neighbours goggling only to find that Gerry and the
boys had walked the dog down to the local shops to pick up something they
needed for dinner. Her hand groped for the light switch and she took a deep
breath, steadying herself before she stepped into the hallway. She took off her
coat and realised that, as usual, there was nowhere to hang it. All the pegs
were full. Oh god. Were the family lying unconscious – or worse - behind one of those closed, forbidding doors,
having come across a burglar in mid spree? They wouldn’t have gone anywhere on a
night like this without their coats.
‘Silly. Silly silly silly’.
She’d go and make
herself that cup of tea, sit herself down for five minutes and then they’d be
home. Her footsteps echoed ominously on the laminate of the hallway. It was
lovely for keeping clean but not so good when it reminded you of the sound
effects in a second rate horror movie. She reached out towards the door handle
and slowly, slowly opened the door. The silence thickened; the darkness beyond
the door was exaggerated by the light seeping in from the hallway; she pushed
the door wide and as she stepped through –
‘Surprise!’
The suddenness of the
light momentarily blinded her; the blast of sound confused. She looked round
open-mouthed at the row of glasses raised in her direction, the glistening
teeth of the smiles ranged behind.
‘Happy Birthday, darling’
‘Happy Birthday, Mum’
‘Happy Birthday, Josie’
And finally the dog was
there, freed from the hand firmly around his muzzle, wagging and whining and
leaning on her leg.
****************************************************
Prompt: How did you and your partner meet?
PM from me to my bestie:-
OMG! OMG! OMG! I can’t believe I have met him. At last.
Mr. Right. Mr. Perfect. Mr.
Scrummy-Yummy-Yumptious (hyphenated, of course!) It really is about time. I
mean, honestly! How many Mr. Wrongs can you go through before you just give
up?
I met him on that website. You know ‘No
strangers, no dangers’. I was in the chat room with the girls and a couple of
lads from up North somewhere (Chelsea fans – LOL – no chance there) and he PM’d
me. He is sooooo dishy. Over six foot (he’ll make me look small even in those
four inch heels) with black hair, just a bit of gray at the sides. He says the
men in his family always go gray young. I said he’ll look like my Dad except my
Dad isn’t old enough for gray hairs yet even though he says we are enough to
give him plenty. Anyways, you are the only person I can tell at the mo. He says
we need to take things slowly because he’s been hurt plenty in the past and it’s
better if we just keep it between ourselves for now. That’s why we haven’t
actually met yet. But he is so romantic. We spend hours just talking – Mum and
Dad keep asking why I look so tired. LOL. If only they knew! He can’t use his
webcam at the moment so I haven’t seen him in real life. He’s living with his
Mum because she is quite old and until they can get her into a home he has to
look after her. He says he’s embarrassed at the state of the place and that’s
the other reason he can’t invite me round yet. Obviously he can’t come round
here. I mean – hello! Can you imagine the faces on the oldies???? He loves my webcam though. He thinks it’s
really funny how pink and girly my bedroom is and he laughs when he sees me in
Disney jim jams. He says I look like a little girl! Bloody cheek!! He’s
suggested a hotel for a night. This is top top secret. You have to promise not
to tell anyone – I mean no-one at all . I’m going to say I’m coming up to stay
at yours . You will cover for me, won’t you? I’ll let you know times and stuff
as soon as he says when.
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