Coffee Break

Coffee Break.

By L. Roger (QBall) Quilter.


I was sitting in Bill’s Cafe drinking my second cup of coffee when the door opened and my ex entered, rushed up to me and shoved her beady eyed face into my view.

“Where’s my alimony, you crud?” Her lips pursed into a grimace. “That’s three times you’ve missed and we ain’t been divorced a year.”

I set my cup down slowly; I know how quickly she explodes and this seemed a likely moment. “I’ve been -”

“Shut up! Always got an excuse, ain’t ya?” She tapped her foot rapidly, a habit she knew would upset me.

“I’ve-”

“I’ll have the law on you, you miserable penny-pinching bastard.” Her face had reddened. “Losing your job is not a reason for a third denial of my rights.”

“Will you list-”

“Well, where’s my money?”

“I had hospital bills to pay.” Good grief! I had finally managed to utter a whole phrase.

“You’ll be paying more soon if I get a chance.” At five feet one and a hundred pounds she still thinks she can push my huge frame around.

“I gotta go see the doc right now,” I offered. “Pass me my crutches, will ya?”

I got up revealing my leg in its cast. For once she was speechless. “Come round and visit the kids, Patty! They miss you.” I left.

The End.

220 words.