serious 1-3 sentence story - ZEFRANK.COM

Guido · 06-11-2003, 01:18 PM

I walked in the door.

Like any other day. But today was not like any other day. And as though to prove it, nobody came to greet me.

I let a long sigh escape my lips. Thinking back to last night, it's a wonder I'm not dead. The car had missed me by a matter of inches. My heart beat faster just thinking about how close it had been.

It was too dark to see the driver's face. But I'll never forget that laugh as long as I live. The car had been aimed directly at me. Which one of them was driving? The car seemed familiar. I looked for a paper to write down everything I could remember about the car, driver and that laugh. A '55 Chevy...seafoam green...and that laugh. It was deep and resonant, yet also had a high-pitched screaming sound to it.

I was almost sure. The driver was Gunter, my colleague and closest friend. And though I was having trouble believing it, the passenger beside him was my wife Vanessa.

I stumbled up the stairs to our bedroom, my head throbbing. God, I'd always hated that chenille bedspread. I began rifling through Vanessa's bureau drawers, tossing unmentionables carelessly as I searched, looking for something tangible, something to explain her presence in that car.

Having emptied the dressers and half the closet, I drop my exhausted body prostrate on the bed. I still have a nagging feeling there is some clue to be found. I don’t know what I’m looking for and I don’t even know if I’m looking in the right place.

Then it hits me like a champagne hangover; the greenhouse! It made perfect sense. My god, how many hours did she spend in that dank place?

But I had asked a million times, and she assured me there was nothing between her and Gunter. And I believed her. But now … now what was I to believe. Especially after she had told me she was going out with Sarah and Melanie last night. I thought she looked, and smelled, too good when she left to just be hanging out with the girls.

I needed to make a call. I reached over to grab the phone, when I realized something was missing from the nightstand.

It's subtle; most would never notice. But I know Vanessa and how she hates to clean. The nightstand, perpetually covered with dust, is spotless -- heck, the whole room has been cleaned.

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06-11-2003, 01:18 PM	#16
Guido monkey Join Date: Jun 2003 Location: IL Posts: 15	I walked in the door. Like any other day. But today was not like any other day. And as though to prove it, nobody came to greet me. I let a long sigh escape my lips. Thinking back to last night, it's a wonder I'm not dead. The car had missed me by a matter of inches. My heart beat faster just thinking about how close it had been. It was too dark to see the driver's face. But I'll never forget that laugh as long as I live. The car had been aimed directly at me. Which one of them was driving? The car seemed familiar. I looked for a paper to write down everything I could remember about the car, driver and that laugh. A '55 Chevy...seafoam green...and that laugh. It was deep and resonant, yet also had a high-pitched screaming sound to it. I was almost sure. The driver was Gunter, my colleague and closest friend. And though I was having trouble believing it, the passenger beside him was my wife Vanessa. I stumbled up the stairs to our bedroom, my head throbbing. God, I'd always hated that chenille bedspread. I began rifling through Vanessa's bureau drawers, tossing unmentionables carelessly as I searched, looking for something tangible, something to explain her presence in that car. Having emptied the dressers and half the closet, I drop my exhausted body prostrate on the bed. I still have a nagging feeling there is some clue to be found. I don’t know what I’m looking for and I don’t even know if I’m looking in the right place. Then it hits me like a champagne hangover; the greenhouse! It made perfect sense. My god, how many hours did she spend in that dank place? But I had asked a million times, and she assured me there was nothing between her and Gunter. And I believed her. But now … now what was I to believe. Especially after she had told me she was going out with Sarah and Melanie last night. I thought she looked, and smelled, too good when she left to just be hanging out with the girls. I needed to make a call. I reached over to grab the phone, when I realized something was missing from the nightstand. It's subtle; most would never notice. But I know Vanessa and how she hates to clean. The nightstand, perpetually covered with dust, is spotless -- heck, the whole room has been cleaned.