By Chris Lihou
I thought my torrid, extramarital affair was long buried. Not forgotten, you understand, just buried.
Two decades ago, not wanting to destroy the steamy record of our passion, I placed our letters in a box beneath a newly planted rose at the bottom of the garden; a rose with blooms as cherry red as her lipstick, thorns as sharp as her wit—a surreptitious shrine to the desire we once shared.
But with the internet, nothing stays interred.
Today, I got a phone call; the voice sounded strangely familiar.
She claims Iām her biological father—wants my DNA to prove it.
Great 101words. Loved the twist at the end. Buried secrets coming alive with technology
Oops! That’s a morning chuckle ~ nicely done, Chris!
beautiful story!
Very nicely done.
Chapeau… nicely written… I enjoyed the twist at the end…
Brilliant. Love the rich, descriptive central paragraph, the idea of buried secrets remaining buried and the alliteration, ‘internet…interred.’ Oh, and the punchline is super too š
This has actually happened more than once. And, it’s too late to be careful.
Ugh! How weird that two stories in a row came from my soon to ex’s playbook! The jewelry meant for another women (not the woman he had the child with…) as well as the daughter born somewhere around our 5th anniversary that we (myself and two children) knew nothing about until 11 years later.
This is not sour grapes (it is what it is…) but kudos to you and the previous story author for conveying the feel of being on the wrong side of that with such accuracy in only 100 words!
…101 words.
Really liked the description of the rosebush with roses as cherry red as her lipstick and thorns as sharp as her wit. The twist at the end was nicely done.