Tag Archives: story

Waiting – A Triptych – Part 2

The kitchen tap dripped unceasingly and most of the cupboards hung at jaunty angles. Her friends were busy salivating over Jamie Oliver or pursuing the latest project from Better Homes and Garden, but she didn’t see the need in creating a mausoleum of monotony. For her there was always something else to do, something else that was a priority on a timetable that ran perpendicular to everyone else’s. She saw no sense in waiting. Waiting was a weakness. Quickly she rinsed her bowl, spoon and mug before putting them on the dish rack to dry and headed out the door.

Waiting – A Triptych – Part 1

She sat in the car outside the school hall, listening to the ping of the engine cooling while she waited for her daughter to finish dance class.  In her mind she compiled a list of all the things she had to do; all the things that made her wait: collect her son from sport, guess her husband’s return time from work and sort the three foot high pile of washing. She glanced at her watch, wanting to hurry the time, and then watched the hall doors for a glimpse of pink tulle to come running.

“What are you waiting for, Mummy?” said the little ballerina as she scampered into the car while the engine sat silent.

“I don’t know, darling, I don’t know.”

The Date – Choose Your Own Adventure

I told my wife I was going out with the boys for a beer at the local and she said that was ok because she was meeting her best friend for coffee a little later. I risked investigative questions by putting on my leather jacket, but the wife seemed to take no notice. It was getting difficult to keep this online dalliance a secret, but we had never actually met in person, just emails and texts. The little Italian restaurant we had agreed to meet at was out of the local area so we wouldn’t be recognised. She entered the restaurant carrying a red rose; the corny way we had arranged to identify each other.

Ending A
My wife looked spectacular as glided across to the table, her eyes alight.

Ending B
Infidelity roared with laughter as soon as my wife and I caught each other’s eyes.

You can get creative and add your own final sentence to complete the story.

Semaphore

I watch the clothes spin like a dervish against a strong breeze, a semaphore of t-shirts, socks and knickers.  They form codes of colour and shape, flags sending out a signal.  What was once luxuriant and seductive, racy even, has become practical, mundane, perfunctory.  Time to splash out on that satin number my husband and I keep joking about.  Interspersed are the bright shades of the girls’ clothes that reflect my choices for them.  It will not be too long before independence, maturity and awakening are the new codes that are written.

Lost and Found

She securely strapped the children in and while the car idled applied a new coat of lipstick. “What would be the right soundtrack for the journey?” she thought while flicking through the CDs before putting in Miles Davis’ Kind of Blue. Pulling an envelope and letter from her handbag she scanned the letter before sealing the envelope and putting it on the dashboard. As she adjusted the rear vision mirror a small voice enquired why the garage doors were not opened. She turned and said, “Don’t worry sweetheart. We’ll be leaving here soon.”

The Notebook

John opened the notebook and followed the instructions on how to make a cup of tea and two pieces of toast for breakfast. He moved around the kitchen with the perplexity of Frankenstein’s abandoned creature, assimilating the newness of his surroundings with a child-like curiosity and wonderment but grounded by instructions in the here and now. Sitting down at the breakfast table he picked up the notebook and turned to a picture of a man and a woman with the caption: John and Pamela, your loving wife, holidaying at Avoca Beach, 2008. Flipping through it he read snippets of experiences and recollections in a formal copperplate script. He read a library of memories that were somehow his, yet it felt like living in a fiction of someone else’s imagination.