Faux-Monet
Arlene started with a small lamp and then the faux-Monet. She had cleared the bedroom before lunch. By 2 o'clock she finished with the living room - it was then on the front lawn, so she headed for the dining room. The dishes rang as they hit the cement walkway, the crystal sang. She dragged the dining table through the entranceway and pushed it down the porch steps. The china cabinet was too bulky to move let alone toss out the window so she tipped it over then went for the kitchen.
Harold arrived home from work at 6; she was just finishing up his den. He stood in the doorway.
"Arlene?"
She didn't move. He approached her and touched her shoulder.
"Arlene, this isn't the way to take it. You can't take it out on the furniture."
As he said this, the keyboard flew in front of his face into the hallway. The mouse, a pencil holder filled with sharpened pencils and a brown ruler.
As he said this, the keyboard flew in front of his face into the hallway. The mouse, a pencil holder filled with sharpened pencils and a brown ruler.
Evening fell with a thud. All that was left was a hallway fixture that now fashioned a gloomy light on the shambles.
"You know this won't change anything, Arlene?"
Arlene had nothing to say.
"You know this won't change anything, Arlene?"
Arlene had nothing to say.
Judy Cabito lives in Incline Village, Nevada. She grew up, steps from the Puget Sound, in several cities on the Coast of California, and calls herself a Westcoaster, if there is such a thing. Published in several online magazines as well as print, she has an analytical interest in micro-fiction.
Photo by: Kellelynne H. Riley
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