Short Story
I sit in my living room, the clock chimes six-thirty, with a plastic ting from the seventies, and I yawn. The usual shites on the TV, cooking programs and quiz shows, why do I bother, just need to wait now until repeats of the “Class,” come on. Its funny isn’t it! I must have the whole ten years of the series on download, but I still find in more appealing to watch them when aired on broadcast TV. It’s the same with movies, there must be hundreds of them in my v-store, but do I watch them? Do I heck! Only when the pip-adverts for one, Aliens lets say. I will go: “Oh, I love that film, haven’t seen that in years,” and pull it out of store, only to get half way through it and fall asleep. We humans… The missus is on her way home, via the shops I would have thought. Flittering away our money on the latest trends. Not that I mind, as she always looks fine, and girls get so much more for their money these days. £1000, that would by me a pair of shoes and a jumper, but she brings home six-bags full of goodies. I like these quiet moments though, don’t get me wrong I love my wife but personal space is a must for all human beings. I sit and wait, plug in my game novel, but I feel restless, can’t get too involved in this one now or I’ll lose the entire evening and we know that won’t go down well, so I wait. The insertion of a key rings a familiar tone. The rustle of fabric and the slamming of the outside door indicate a return, guess she’s back. “Hey hun!” She calls from the hall. “Hello sweetheart, how’s your day been?” We get along; even after seven years we still get a long. “Same shite…” “Different day, “I finish. “And you?” Where do I start… this has to be one of the most interesting days of my life, but she’s not interested yet. I let her settle. “Most interesting” … I reply, “Cool, what’s for dinner?” We get on as I said before and I can wait. “What-you fancy?” “Something-quick,” “I thoughts so, Italian pizza do?” “Perfect,” She strips in one elegant move and exits the living room,” be out after I’ve sandblasted me self.” She enters the turbo-shower and is back and drying in less then five minutes. “Now that’s better, feel like me again.” The Oven tings and pizza is ready to serve. We settle to eat and watch the TV, same programs to eat too, same time, same food, but its ok cos that’s what we like. Oh we change it now and again, but always settle back to the same kind of routine. Full and quenched, she snuggles against me, now the time is right. I break the silence. “I killed someone today hun,” I say in passive tones “Really what did he do?!” “Nothing really, just got in my way” “How did it happen?” Now that’s the story… It began this morning, I tell her, just after breakfast, it was the usual fare, beans and chips, to add to my slightly portly shape (well I am getting on a bit, and can’t be thin forever.) Chips and a cuppa, is still the only way to start the day, none of this continental rubbish that’s all the rave now. Toast sliding down my tea soaked throat I pick up my paper to leave, when…
