theministryofshrawleywalks

Friday Fictioneers: Plague Reflection

Rochelle, it’s been a long week, apologies for not playing last week, I was knee deep in concrete and sharp sand. So with cracked fingers, bathed in moisturiser and blister upon blister, I will try my best. Thanks also to Dave Stewart, might the Eurythmic, may not be, which is part of his charm, the photo is great. So without further ado, it is time to say, as usual for me,

On My Marks…

Get Set…

GO!!!

She had been in hospital since March, her breathing shallow, covered in the sticky film of the plague but the weight dropping off; every cloud.  

At home the Noodles and Jacket Potato master, was surviving, the loft train set epic, the records alphabetised, his tummy spreading fast, far more predictably than the Plague.

She was coming home, and he had decided to decorate the pond area; blue and pink, the Koi loved a bit of glitz apparently. Then using pot noodle pots and jacket-potato skins he had manufactured a kind of Vulgar Vegas.

Christ she hated that fucking awful honeymoon.

There we are folks, a tale of self reflection and realisation brought on by the virus.

19 comments

  1. Interesting contrasts here between her shedding weight through the plague and him putting it on, while keeping busy. Her coming home to his love, being displayed by the effort he put into the Koi pond, and her reflecting on how much she hated that honeymoon. Sad, insightful.
    It did take me a moment to realise it was from her point of view, but that could just be me 🙂

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    • Thanks for your kind words, as with all of these FF’s I tend to write what first comes, there’s very little room for edits as I feel I’m always in a rush to do something else; kids, work, building a terrace, etc I’d say some of it is from her point of view, it could also be from a compassionate onlooker, or from a neutral observer . The choice is up to the reader

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  6. Dear Shrawley,

    Vulgar Vegas indeed. The place where even the outskirts and suburbs have casinos and slot machines in every mall. Not a favorite place of mine. Re your story. Nice that she survived, but will the marriage?

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

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  9. Teehee! That is a very harsh assessment of the noodles and jacket potato master (snigger!). I hope she gives him credit for trying. (But I wouldn’t bank on her sticking around, especially if he’s been playing with his trains instead of doing the housework.) As Neil comments, that dissection of a marriage is surgical – and very funny.

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