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The phone rang. My husband sighed.

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

There were no doctors’ appointments, no pharmacy runs. Their community fed them and offered activities.

Alzheimer’s did not care.

“What? Your car fob battery died? Someone took it apart? Read me the number.”

He held the phone away from his ear. I heard “washing machine” and “clock alarms” before he signed off.

“He doesn’t understand. I have to…”

“Go,” I said. Then I asked him, “When are they going to take away his keys? How much longer must we endure these demands?”

“As long as he needs me,” my husband replied.

“Keep the noise down, I’m writing,” John declared imperiously positioning his gold-tipped Parker.

‘Va Pensiero’ was playing on Classic FM. ‘Hebrew Slaves.’ How appropriate, Cheryl thought, hanging the washing on the line.

She breathed in the outdoors. Citrus fragrance from mock orange mixed with the heady smell of honeysuckle. The sound of sparrows squabbling, inharmonious with the soft tinkling of wind chimes.

Perhaps ‘Surviving His Retirement’ for my own competition entry? Cheryl mused, plugging the hoover in.

“Can’t you do that later?” came a querulous voice. “A cup of tea wouldn’t go amiss.”

Cheryl scribbled furiously: ‘How to murder your husband.’

I’m a normal person. I have an apartment, I’m a librarian, and I go out Friday nights.

I can’t keep a boyfriend though.

It starts out nice. We flirt, have dinner. We go steady for a few weeks and he leaves.

Could it be my doll collection? Lots of people collect things! It’s not like I hoard knives. I’m proud of my dolls, handmade with natural material. Life sized and life like. I don’t know why men get so squeamish when they see them!

But thanks to my collection I have a permanent keepsake of the short time we spent together.

Bubba and his wife clear customs then they depart Tel Aviv’s international airport with their heavy suitcases in tow. It’s been the couple’s dream to visit the Holy Land ever since they were married. Before catching a tour bus to Jerusalem, Bubba decides they will hail a taxi and head to a nearby shopping district for lunch. The Holy Land can wait just a little while longer. It ain’t goin’ nowhere, and Bubba’s famished! Doreen will no doubt order some hummus or tabouli crap but Bubba will have none of that. He has a hankerin’ for a nice, juicy, pulled-pork sandwich.