Welcome to the twenty-fifth in a 31-day series Story A Day May 2013.
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. This is on hold this month as I write a story a day for SADM2013
Today’s prompt was to write a story starting from the end and working backwards. Below is my 558-word monologue.
I flinched as the cell door slammed. You’d think it would be worst the first night but then I still had hope.
It’ll be a month on Friday and they’re still wrangling, ‘them’ being the British Embassy and Thai authorities.
There’s no doubt about Simon, but we’re being tried together and I’m a grey area.
Carrier. Mule. Whatever you want to call me. ‘Wife’ is what Simon calls… called me. Wife of 37 days. The dream holiday, all-inclusive package; wedding, honeymoon – romantic ceremony for four… five if you include the celebrant, our hotel manager. They’re multi-talented over here. Too, as it turns out is Simon; liar, con artist, thief. Not sure if he’s a cheat yet but it doesn’t matter anymore. We’ll see each other in court and that’ll be that.
The lawyer they’ve given me says I could get ten years. Ten years! For carrying my suitcases, but not checking them properly.
Did I pack them myself? Of course you’re going to say, “yes”, even if you didn’t, which I did. Thought I had. Had.
Did I, at any time, leave them unattended? You’re going to say, “no”. Of course I hadn’t left them alone, not since we’d left the hotel. The taxi driver loaded everything into his boot and I sat beside him all the way, nearly an hour. I get travel-sick so Simon let me sit in the front. He’s… he was good like that. We didn’t stop once so now way anyone could have interfered with them. Then we went straight from the taxi to check-in. That went OK, as did the X-Ray but I knew it would because we had nothing new in our hand luggage, all our souvenirs were in our cases. The security check was OK. They lingered over Simon’s passport but let us through. You always feel guilty even when there’s no need. We were fine on the trip out so there was no reason not to be on the return.
My lawyer’s due back today. Don’t know when but…
It’s just how you imagine it to be here, how you might have seen it on TV. I’m lucky. I have a corner to myself, and a seat. Some have to stand. We all have our spaces, like a book club meeting. Someone goes and you get to take their place. Try to get a place before it’s offered to you and they don’t let you forget it. We’ve just hit fifty in here. I count every time I wake up but it only ever changes in the day. No one comes at night. The women are mostly around my age, mid to late thirties. We only get one shower a day and clean clothes once a week so it’s not nice but we’re all in the same… boat.
At least we had our holiday. Could have been caught arriving but then as far as I know Simon bought the stuff here, or was given it. I don’t know. They interviewed… interrogated us in separate rooms, told me all about him, who he really is. His name’s the same, before you think that he’s that kind of con man, but all the other things he’s done… I’m just one of a long line, at the end of it, I guess, but when you’re in love…
Hello? Yes. Yes, that’s me.
Picture above courtesy of morguefile.com.
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