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“The Anniversary”

Sally Stackhouse | Stories

Use this picture and these three words in your story.

Photo by Revolt 164 on Unsplash

chew

restaurant

favourite

 

THE ANNIVERSARY

by Sally Stackhouse

It was their anniversary

Although she longed to be free

Another year had passed

She smiled as she felt downcast

 

He said put your glad-rags on

Tonight, we are dining on the town

She donned her prettiest dress

That had taken her ages to press

She ironed his new shirt

A bigger size to cover his girth

 

He took her out

Where he thought he had clout

The waiter he would chastise

He was a monster in disguise

 

The restaurant was posh

Serving lovely *nosh

He ordered his favourite food

He was so crude

She could hear him chew

He did not have a clue

How to behave in public

She longed for the meal to be quick

 

He told her she looked nice

She felt calm as ice

As she noticed his feet

Encased in red sneakers

 

Who goes out to dinner in trainers?  If only she’d noticed before they left the house, perhaps she could have persuaded him to change in to dress shoes, knowing his stubborn streak it probably wouldn’t have made any difference.  She sighed to herself, after all these years she should have known better, his table manners were even worse if that was at all possible.  He was loud and became louder the more beer he consumed.  She kept to the one glass of wine, pretending to sip it so she could keep her wits about her.  They’d would have to order a taxi home and blow the expense; she would catch the bus tomorrow and retrieve their car.  Thank goodness it was Sunday and he didn’t have to go to work, he’d spend the majority of the day in bed nursing his hangover but blaming it on the food.  There must have been something wrong with it, he was going to call the Food Standards Agency or whatever they were called these days.  He would get the restaurant shut down, just see if he didn’t.

 

She cooked the roast dinner and he made his appearance, a bit grouchy and slovenly but he managed to shovel his meal as though he hadn’t eaten for a week.  He didn’t thank her but just slouched on the sofa and watched the football.  No choice for her what programmes they would watch.  He was the man of the house and he ruled it (and her) with an iron thumb.

The next year rolled around, the sneakers were worn out, he still lacked table manners or any kind of social skills but this time when he said they were going out for a meal she refused.  He was rather taken aback.  She’d never said ‘no’ to him before.  She picked up a suitcase that was in the hallway, took a last look around her home, gave him a quick glance as she slammed the front door behind her and got in to a sleek sports car driven by a rather handsome chap.

She hoped against hope this was her chance, her getaway option.  Let him think what he liked.  Whatever he thought it would be wrong.  Her cousin, that he hadn’t let her see for many years, drove her away as her silent tears fell.

*English slang for food or a meal

 

Word count: 556

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