The Helpline Number

jhc-2
Photo (c) J Hardy Carroll

The Helpline Number

Words 102

It was dark when she let herself into her new apartment. Switching on the lights she gazed around delightedly.

The room was exactly as she had left it. The upturned heels, the dupatta* trailing on the floor, a half-opened book, the banana peel.

She was truly free of that obnoxious odious nitpicking man!

Humming, she threw open the windows.

Neither a β€˜garbage dump’ nor a β€˜pigsty’ she thought as she put out the trash.

A gush of wind slammed the door shut.

Locked out without her phone!

Β Sweat broke out on her brow.

She couldn’t recollect any phone number.

Except for his.

***

*dupatta: a long scarf usually of cotton or silk.

PS: Would you like to know what happened next? Click here πŸ˜‰

Written for the Friday Fictioneers – a story in 100 words or less. Thanks to Rochelle for hosting the challenge and J Hardy Carroll for the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.

Thanks for reading πŸ™‚

Published by

Dahlia

Email me at mysilverstreaks@gmail.com or tweet me @mysilverstreaks

35 thoughts on “The Helpline Number”

  8. Ain’t that the truth. Before cellphones I had a lot of numbers memorized. Dependence on technology is certainly dumbing us down. I bet she’ll find a way in. Let’s he doesn’t have an extra key.

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  10. Perhaps she can use the escape ladder and climb back through the window she left open. Anyway, it is an emergency and if she has to use the only helpline she knows then why not?
    Good Moening Dahlia. The garden this morning is full of activities. The squirrel was jumping around full of energy. Robin came and pecked at the bread and grains left for birds. The blackbird was walking on the lawn and pulling out earthworms and was having a feast. Compared to gardens on both sides, my garden looks very untidy with fallen leaves. But I love the contrast colourfull leaves make with green grass of the lawn.

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    1. Exactly who knows the helpline number may just connect to ASR πŸ˜‰ I prefer untidy gardens to perfect ones – besides I do love your garden and its visitors (and host!) πŸ™‚

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  11. Lovely story, but with a deep meaning, a superficial way of hitting on something so deep, we all cant snap out of relationships completely, we cant loosen our ties so easily, our weakness and our strengths are sometimes the same, thats why we are so strong to forgive, forget, love, be hurt yet be at the same time……very touching indeed!

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