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Rated: E · Fiction · Activity · #2290219
Flash Fiction
It Is What It Is (300w)

Mr Pottle decided that it was about time to do the gardening; he didn’t like gardening, and had been putting it off for months. After making this decision, he made a second, more decisive decision to get started on the gardening after a nice cup of tea, or two.

Brew in hand, he made himself comfy in his favourite chair – a tatty old tea-stained armchair, purchased in 1993, but, according to him, still as good as new – and switched on the TV. A news report about a local power plant disaster came on. Well, he thought, can’t be gardening at a time like this, not until the report is over, at least.

An hour later Mr Pottle was woken by the telephone. He wasn’t sure what time it was, or even where he was, and it took him a few minutes to focus. They’ll leave a message if it’s important, he thought, running his hand through what was left of his hair. Getting up to make another cup of tea, he noticed something: the sun was shining through the window at such an angle as to highlight just how dusty and dirty the chimney was. Well, he thought, surely that’s a more pressing matter than the garden.

An hour later the chimney was sparklingly clean, with some fresh wood burning in the burner, and Mr Pottle was sat in his chair again, sipping some tea. He looked outside at the state of his garden: overgrown grass, weeds galore, broken fencing, and a ladder sprawled on the patio. He sighed. Well, he thought, I suppose it must be done, and he shuffled to the back door to unlock it.

Suddenly the heavens opened, pouring with rain. Well, he thought, it is what it is, and went to put the kettle on.
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