A short story of 299 words written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge.
|I’m Sorry I Asked!
They’d been propped against a wall for weeks; months. I wouldn’t have minded but Owen had promised to put them up the weekend after we bought them.
It wasn’t a difficult task but there was always some excuse. He was going out, he had to work, the football was on the telly. Meantime my tiny study was becoming more and more cluttered. I really needed those shelves.
Now, you might be wondering why I didn’t get on with it. You hardly had to be skilled to fix up a couple of shelves. And believe me, I would, if I wasn’t banned from using all the tools.
Aggravating as it was, I could understand. Owen had the same drill for years. He would often tell me how it could not be matched these days. My one time at attempting a bit of DIY and what did I do? I burned the motor out. Since then the tools have been locked away and Owen had the key.
“Please!” I begged. “You promised.” I was desperate, had no shame.
Owen had looked at me for a moment before giving a sigh. “Okay! But make sure you record the match.”
He disappeared in to my tiny room and there was banging, crashing, curses galore. I sat with the remote in my hand, my mind wondering what was going on. I wanted to look so much, but I didn’t dare.
The door was flung open and Owen staggered out grasping one hand in the other, blood seeping through his fingers. It was clearly a job for the A&E.
As I sat there waiting I realized I’d left the recording paused. Owen was going to be fuming.
Still, I’d have my new shelves; but even so I've got to say I’m sorry I even asked.