By Maia
Daphne Fanshaw signed the letter with a flourish and sealed the envelope. Thirty years. For what? A clock, cream cake, and a helium balloon? Bright young things breezing in and out. Hot-desking. Zooming from home. Cheaper. Anger seethed through her body, like a slow tumour; overlooked and underestimated. Nobody remembered when this dinosaur was a tiger.
A last glance around the bare flat. Shiny suitcases stacked in the hallway. New tenants arriving tomorrow. A text pinged, taxi for Newman, her alter ego. She posted the letter en route to the airport. She would be long gone when the auditors moved in.
Very nice! Great build-up, and then once it hit me what was happening at the end, I got quite a smirk 🙂 Retribution, indeed.
I thought both these lines (back-to-back, no less) were brilliant: “Anger seethed through her body, like a slow tumour; overlooked and underestimated. Nobody remembered when this dinosaur was a tiger.”
Well done!
I really enjoyed this story. A thought it was a tale about somebody resenting earlier retirement and the advancing years. The switch of venue to the apartment confused me…as did the alias. Then, with last sentence, the title suddenly made sense! Very well done.
Very well-written, concise and packed a lot of story in it, great use of language too
This is a very enjoyable story.
woo hoo! Go Newman! great story! thanks 🙂
What a great piece! The writing is great. I was right there with your main character and love the ending.
Great story. Says a lot. Well written.
You’ve gotta like her. Great story.