Where have you gone? Your suits and ties are hanging in your wardrobe. Your toothbrush and shaver are in the bathroom.
On the kitchen counter are ten neatly folded chocolate wrappers, all empty, and a dose of insulin untouched. Beside these, sits your mobile phone and a silver coin.
Your phone rings. It’s my number calling.
‘Hello?’
‘Alice?’
‘Who’s asking?’
‘Nobody of consequence.’
‘Is that you, Charles? You sound strange.’
‘I’ve read your text messages.’
‘I can explain.’
‘Heads … I die. Tails … your lover dies.’
‘It was nothing serious.’
‘Car’s sinking fast. No signal soon. Then you lose us both.’
#
Friday Fictioneers: 100 word stories
Prompt: image (c) The Reclining Gentleman
Sarah Potter Writes 