Welcome to the seventy-eighth in this daily series that is ‘5pm Fiction’.
Late April 2011 I discovered http://StoryADay.org and the project that is to write 31 stories in 31 days. Anyone who knows me or follows this blog, knows how passionate I am about short stories so my clichéd eyes lit up at this new marvel. And just a few days later there I was, breathing life into new characters. This went on to become (with some editing of course) my 31-story collection eBook Story A Day May 2011.
I was nearing completion of the 2012 project when I decided that I didn’t want to stop at the end of May so 5PM Fiction was born. I put a load of prompts on the 5PM Fiction page and today’s was to write a second person viewpoint story from the prompt of ‘three keys’, so here is my 276-worder.
Three keys
You slam shut the kitchen drawer despite knowing it’ll likely wake him. It’s the morning after another argument and you’ve not made up yet. Separate bedrooms again… second time this week and it’s getting worse. Deep down you know you love him and that he loves you but everything about him makes you mad, even the little things you’d not noticed before, like the way he jangles his jacket pocket as he walks towards the front door and you picture the three keys slamming against one another – the keys to the car, house and office – the three places he shares as his job dictates; selling chocolates to shop keepers, pubs and schools.
You lost the boxroom to his study-cum-store room and you’ve felt its pull over the past few months. He’d never been career-orientated until recently and you just want him back. He says he’s doing it for you, build a nest egg to start a family but you’re not convinced there’ll be a nest to put the egg in for much longer.
Opening the drawer you remember this time what it was you were after: the orange squeezer to make his juice just how he likes it; fresh and natural, just how you felt all those years ago.
You hear him come down the stairs and you fix on a smile, hoping that he’s remembered his.
As he enters the room your heart sinks as he’s fixing his tie. He nods, takes the juice and slips on his jacket, rattling the keys as he pats the pocket. You watch him place the empty glass on the hall table and slam the front door behind him.
***
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Unfortunately, as I post an interview a day (amongst other things) I can’t review books but I have a feature called ‘Short Story Saturdays’ where I review stories of up to 2,500 words. Alternatively if you have a short story or self-contained novel extract / short chapter (ideally up to 1000 words) that you’d like critiqued and don’t mind me reading it / talking about and critiquing it (I send you the transcription afterwards so you can use the comments or ignore them) 
on my ‘Bailey’s Writing Tips’ podcast, then do email me. They are fortnightly episodes, usually released on Sundays, interweaving the recordings between the red pen sessions with the hints & tips episodes. I am now also looking for flash fiction (<1000 words) for Flash Fiction Fridays and poetry for Post-weekend Poetry.
