By Rob Chandler
The party was over.
She stood beside him, towel in hand, hatred in her heart. He couldn’t wash away guilt as easily as the grime on the plates. She’d seen the way he’d glanced at the other woman, understood now why he’d been working late, recognised the source of the faint smell of perfume in their car.
She took the plates in subdued silence, acting the role of submissive wife. Beside her the pile stacked up, each one now as empty as his promises. She said nothing, did nothing that would show her pain.
Instead, she waited patiently for the knives.
Whoa! Good one, Rob!
Maybe this wasn’t supposed to make me laugh…but it did. Very classic and I could picture her standing there. Thank you for your story!
Loved it! Wonderful touch!
Fantastic story! I want to know what happens next!
Liked it well done!
I love the controlled use of language throughout and the tension in the last line. Great story.