The Daily Post this week invites us to share a visual story. I am busy shifting houses (now that would tell an amazing story but that’s another story for another day 😉 but since I can’t seem to keep away from the blog world, I am re-posting one (from August 2016) which some of you may have seen. But I think it is worth a revisit. Feel free to disagree and move on! 😀
Hello friends, curious about the outcome, I couldn’t resist writing a sequel to last week’s FF: The Helpline Number but I think (and hope) this works as a standalone story as well. As usual thank you for your indulgence 🙂
“Yes?” The portly neighbor’s eyes glistened.
“I’m locked out.” She said. “Could you call a carpenter?”
“At this time?” He opened the door.
She backed away.
But she wouldn’t call him.
His house was spic and span. Not a crease out of place. Just the way he liked it. Yet everything looked cold, clinical.
He gave the cushion a restless twitch.
His breath caught.
What if she needed it?
What did he care?
She had walked out.
Why the hell wasn’t she picking her phone?
“How careless can you be?” He brandished her inhaler.
She burrowed into him.
Written for the Friday Fictioneers – A story in 100 words or less. Thank you Rochelle for hosting the challenge and the photo prompt. To read the other stories inspired by this prompt click here.