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The Bedroom Aftermath, by Jeremy Leariwala

26/11/2021

 
Morris woke up feeling rejuvenated after siesta. The whole house was really quiet, eliminating the worry of staying scantily dressed.

“I’m tired of your acts! It is time you told me EVERYTHING!” Jane exploded when Morris walked into their living room. Her bloodshot eyes revealed the magnitude of anguish she must have suffered, while he enjoyed his rest.

He froze in his tracks. Jane stormed out of the room and disappeared into the bedroom.

“Honey, what is the problem? I don’t understand.”

No response.

He followed her. He found her standing by her dressing table looking out the window, sobbing and shaking.

“Would you mind telling me what this is all about?” Morris boomed.

Jane spun, sharply, on her heels and her eyes threatened to blow up. Her lips trembled, barely completing words.

“I’ve suspected many things for long! I’ve watched your steps, and I feel like the time to face the truth is NOW!”

“So?”

“You no longer touch me. There is no longer an iota of love between the two of us-all because of that witch in a mini-skirt!”

“WHAT?”

“YES! Don’t deny it! You are having an affair with Raisy.” She dropped the bomb-shell.

It stung, like a red-hot pin going through his heart. Two decades of an introvert’s faithfulness was wounded; set on fire when he least imagined it. His anger started boiling bit by bit…

“See! You can’t utter a word for yourself, because it is the truth!”

“You’re accusing me of an affair? With our own neighbour?”

“Our neighbour MY FOOT!” Jane blasted shaking a finger. “Why doesn’t she stop by our gate like you do every other day at her place? Ehe?”

That was it. Morris turned and stomped off. He yanked the garage’s door and went inside. He grabbed one of the sharpest machetes...

Still enraged, he half-ran towards the family coffee garden about seventy meters away. The sun simmered on a bright cloudless sky and the birds played, unconcerned, on the fruit trees all around.

PUFF! HUFF!

WHACK! WHACK!

Morris went into a psychic chopping spree. He cut off branches, one coffee bush after another, swinging arms like a robot. From every pore of his skin, sweat streams poured before soaking into his vest and khaki shorts.

Thirty minutes later, all their bushes were stripped off branches; a task that ordinarily consumed one and half hours of careful pruning.

***

On the patio later that evening...

“I was afraid you would harm yourself, the way you cut those branches.” Jane confessed dabbing his blistered palm using a cotton wool dripping with disinfectant.

AUCH!

Other wounds, especially those on his legs, inflicted by falling branches, were long cleaned-n- drying. All his muscles complained at the slightest movement.

Jane finally rose to her feet.

“Can I get you more coffee? There is some more in the kettle.” Would she ever wait for the answer?

“Yes darling, more coffee please...”
Joy Mutai
26/11/2021 02:12:15 pm

Nice one Jeremy.

Jeremy Leariwala
2/12/2021 08:53:46 pm

Thanks a lot Joy.

Sue Clayton
29/11/2021 02:43:41 am

Wow. That packed a punch.

David Milner
29/11/2021 09:14:04 am

The games people play.

Jeremy Leariwala
2/12/2021 08:57:02 pm

Thanks Sue Clayton. I wish I could do better every day!


Comments are closed.

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    Friday Flash Fiction is primarily a site for stories of 100 words or fewer, and our authors are expected to take on that challenge if they possibly can. Most stories of under 150 words can be trimmed and we do not accept submissions of 101-150 words.


    However, in response to demand, the FFF team constructed this forum for significantly longer stories of 151-500 words. Please send submissions for these using the Submissions Page.

    Stories to the 500 word thread will be posted as soon as we can mange.

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    One little further note. Posting and publishing 500-word stories takes a little time if they need to be formatted, too.
    ​Please note that we tend to post longer flash fiction exactly as we find it – wrong spacing, everything.

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