Good morning, dear people. Or good afternoon or evening, depending on where you are in the world. Today I would like to present to you a (fictional) cautionary tale. Also known as 'Ness Is Very Bad At Titles' (Because I Don't Think It Really Is A Cautionary Tale).
Yeah, that.
Anyway, here it is:
She cautiously set her cup on the table. Her eyes flicked from the screen to the door. It was time. The guilt twisted inside, taunting her. She jumped when the door opened even though she'd been expecting him.
Panicked, she closed the laptop. He mustn't know.
"Hey babe," Grant was sweaty and distracted, checking his fit bit.
"Good run?" She managed to sound normal.
"Smashed it." He grinned and headed for the kitchen. Too late she remembered her phone charging on the counter. Had she deleted the incriminating texts? Jarred had a habit of sending effusive messages. Especially when she'd just ended their Skype session so abruptly.
Grant drained a glass of water, while she hovered behind him. Then he turned and drew her towards him, oblivious to her distress.
"You're all sweaty," she protested.
"So let's get more sweaty..." he raised an eyebrow then frowned as her phone whistled to indicate a message.
She snapped it up urgently.
"Boyfriend number four?" Grant's lips twitched.
"Very funny!"
She turned her back to read the message. "I need you to go pick up Piper."
Their daughter was safely at her parents place. She could never be privy to such a thing. At five years old, she was far too inquisitive. Not to mention a certified chatterbox. Plus it was a convenient ruse to make Grant leave.
"I need to take a shower first. You said so yourself." He traced his steps back through the living room to the stairs.
The cup. Oh, no.
"On the heavy stuff already?"
"Ha ha." He thinks it's water. Phew.
Grant knew something was up. She was sure of it. She never left cups around. He was always teasing her about being so meticulous.
Yet here she was, drinking vodka during the day, in a dishevelled house, while ensconced in illicit Skyping. This couldn't go on. She'd have to tell him.
But as soon as Grant left to pick up Piper, she texted furiously.
The coast is clear.
The reply was instant.
I'll be right there. Can't wait!
She was really doing this. All her planning had paid off. She'd fooled him. Later, she would always remember the shock on Grant's face. She couldn't believe he'd never guessed.
"You sneaky bitch," he said. "I can't believe this!"
The stunned expression turned tender.
"God, I love you." He reached to hug her, elated.
Abby embraced her husband. "Happy birthday," she whispered.
"Happy birthday, bro!" Jarred, her brother-in-law, thumped him on the back as all their gathered family and friends laughed and joined in the salutations.
Abby and Jarred exchanged relieved smiles. They'd pulled it off. A surprise 40th birthday party for Grant. They'd been planning it for months via messages and Skype.
"How did you not know?" She asked Grant later. Everyone had finally left and Piper had given in to slumber, exhausted from all the excitement.
"I figured you'd never have anyone over when the place was such a 'mess'." He said, tweaking his fingers to indicate inverted commas. "Well, your version of a mess."
She threw a cushion at him from the artfully arranged nest on their bed. He detested those cushions as much as she loved them. He threw it back, then they were kissing. For the first time ever she decided that all the mess and dishes could wait.
The End.
Yes. Well. Wasn't that cute? For some reason I have the same feeling I have when I eat something too sweet. It's good at the time but then I'm queasy afterwards. Bleurrghh.
I was going to say that the only 'cautionary' thing about it should have been to warn you to have a barf bag ready for afterwards, but I'm over all that self-deprecating crap. Oh wait... DOH.
Old habits and all that... Anyway that's my story. Thank you kindly for reading.
Written for Friday Reflections using the prompt:
Can you think of a better title?
Yeah, that.
Anyway, here it is:
A Cautionary Tale
She cautiously set her cup on the table. Her eyes flicked from the screen to the door. It was time. The guilt twisted inside, taunting her. She jumped when the door opened even though she'd been expecting him.
Panicked, she closed the laptop. He mustn't know.
"Hey babe," Grant was sweaty and distracted, checking his fit bit.
"Good run?" She managed to sound normal.
"Smashed it." He grinned and headed for the kitchen. Too late she remembered her phone charging on the counter. Had she deleted the incriminating texts? Jarred had a habit of sending effusive messages. Especially when she'd just ended their Skype session so abruptly.
Grant drained a glass of water, while she hovered behind him. Then he turned and drew her towards him, oblivious to her distress.
"You're all sweaty," she protested.
"So let's get more sweaty..." he raised an eyebrow then frowned as her phone whistled to indicate a message.
She snapped it up urgently.
"Boyfriend number four?" Grant's lips twitched.
"Very funny!"
She turned her back to read the message. "I need you to go pick up Piper."
Their daughter was safely at her parents place. She could never be privy to such a thing. At five years old, she was far too inquisitive. Not to mention a certified chatterbox. Plus it was a convenient ruse to make Grant leave.
"I need to take a shower first. You said so yourself." He traced his steps back through the living room to the stairs.
The cup. Oh, no.
"On the heavy stuff already?"
"Ha ha." He thinks it's water. Phew.
Grant knew something was up. She was sure of it. She never left cups around. He was always teasing her about being so meticulous.
Yet here she was, drinking vodka during the day, in a dishevelled house, while ensconced in illicit Skyping. This couldn't go on. She'd have to tell him.
But as soon as Grant left to pick up Piper, she texted furiously.
The coast is clear.
The reply was instant.
I'll be right there. Can't wait!
She was really doing this. All her planning had paid off. She'd fooled him. Later, she would always remember the shock on Grant's face. She couldn't believe he'd never guessed.
"You sneaky bitch," he said. "I can't believe this!"
The stunned expression turned tender.
"God, I love you." He reached to hug her, elated.
Abby embraced her husband. "Happy birthday," she whispered.
"Happy birthday, bro!" Jarred, her brother-in-law, thumped him on the back as all their gathered family and friends laughed and joined in the salutations.
Abby and Jarred exchanged relieved smiles. They'd pulled it off. A surprise 40th birthday party for Grant. They'd been planning it for months via messages and Skype.
"How did you not know?" She asked Grant later. Everyone had finally left and Piper had given in to slumber, exhausted from all the excitement.
"I figured you'd never have anyone over when the place was such a 'mess'." He said, tweaking his fingers to indicate inverted commas. "Well, your version of a mess."
She threw a cushion at him from the artfully arranged nest on their bed. He detested those cushions as much as she loved them. He threw it back, then they were kissing. For the first time ever she decided that all the mess and dishes could wait.
The End.
Yes. Well. Wasn't that cute? For some reason I have the same feeling I have when I eat something too sweet. It's good at the time but then I'm queasy afterwards. Bleurrghh.
I was going to say that the only 'cautionary' thing about it should have been to warn you to have a barf bag ready for afterwards, but I'm over all that self-deprecating crap. Oh wait... DOH.
Old habits and all that... Anyway that's my story. Thank you kindly for reading.
Written for Friday Reflections using the prompt:
- Start with ‘She cautiously set her cup on the table.......’ Set timer and write for 5 mins.
Can you think of a better title?
