45 minutes

Hello reader(s)

And a hearty good morning to everyone! Unless you were on the ale last night in which case it will be whispered good morning to you.

Well here we are again, so it must be time for me to start typing away on this here computer thingy and make some words appear on the interweb malarky.

Now the more observant (or at least awake and not hungover) of you might be wondering why I've called this little post 45 minutes. Well it's simple really (bit like me). This post concerns something that I did last night that took, from start to finish, 45 minutes.

BEHAVE! 

Stop sniggering at the back. Really, you've all got filthy minds. Honestly. Mucky mucky muck muck. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. It was a piece of flash fiction. I have a group over in the world of fb. And one member of this group posted a piece of his own, rather incredibly excellent, flash fiction on the page and added a suggestion that we could have a go ourselves. (See, bet you're all feeling slightly guilty now for having those dirty thoughts. And so you should)

So this is my effort. From starting up my laptop to posting on the fb page took, wait, yep, you guessed it, 45 minutes.

Ta ta for now

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4:55pm

Sally awoke slowly and gently as the sunlight warmed her face through the conservatory door. ‘I must have dozed off’ she thought ‘Wonder what time it is’. She got up out of the wicker chair and walked through the open door into the kitchen stretching her arms as she went. A radio was playing to itself on the white work top. Looking at the clock on the pale blue wallpaper she saw that it was 4:55pm. Oh blimey she said to herself, Richard will be home in a few minutes. The kitchen felt warm as the sun continued to beat down through the conservatory glass so she moved through into their living room. The room was modestly but tastefully furnished which was how they liked it. Sally saw the TV remote on the corner of the leather armchair. ‘Let’s put the news on till he arrives,’ She thought, ‘Think I’ll suggest we go out for dinner tonight. He won’t mind going out to the local pub. Probably quite enjoy it. Short walk and we can both have a couple of drinks.’

She bent down to pick up the remote and pressed the main button as she pointed it at the flat screen sitting expectantly in the corner of the room. The screen remained blank so Sally pressed it again harder. Again the television stubbornly refused to obey and stayed silent. Throwing it onto the armchair with a tut, she walked over to the unit and pressed the on switch at the base of the screen. Again nothing happened.

“What’s up with this thing? We only got it a couple of weeks ago. Dozy git didn’t unplug it did he?”

She knelt down and peered around the back of the television only to find that the plug was still sitting in the wall socket and switched on.

“Great” she said, “Bloody thing has packed in. That’s just fucking brilliant.”

Sally got back to her to feet and looked through the front window. A car was pulling up in their driveway. She watched as it disappeared from view down the side of the house and into the garage, the faint noise of the engine coming through the wall. ‘Oh well he’s here now. He can have a look at it.’ She thought.

The engine became silent and she heard the muffled sound of the driver’s door being opened and closed. Then came the opening of the door that led from the garage to the kitchen.

“You home Sal?” came the voice.

“In here,” she replied.

“Sally?”

“I said I’m in the living room. I swear you’re going deaf you know.”

She watched as Richard, briefcase in hand, ‘as always’ she thought smiling, walked into the conservatory and stooped down slightly. After a moment the briefcase dropped to the floor and she heard him cry out. In a heartbeat she was standing next to him, looking at herself, in the wicker chair as if she was still peacefully asleep.