When the idea of a pickaxe handle-free btb mini-event came up, I rifled through my older stuff and found this flash story. This is a bit different from what I write today, but it fits into the theme rather nicely. Normal service will be resumed on the 2nd of December, when the historical romance event is coming up. Many thanks to the usual suspects for their help.
* * * * *
After glancing at the hallway that led back to the bedroom, I shuffled listlessly towards the front door, expecting nothing good to result from opening it. I also expected nothing bad; nothing noteworthy had been happening recently. Lacking anything else to do, I walked over to it and opened the damn thing.
My surprise was total. There SHE stood. Well, vaguely the SHE I remembered so well. I'm afraid my mouth was gaping open while she just breezed past me into my apartment; the apartment she had abandoned some three months earlier, abandoning me in the process, as well.
I was still stunned as I watched her taking in the slightly changed interior of my abode with a critical and slightly exasperated expression. I looked from her to the dishes on the table, to the hallway again and back to her.
"Well, this has to change, obviously. It's about time that I came back to take things in hand again. Close the door, by the way, will you please?"
"What?" That was all I could think of to say while I complied with her wish. Closing the door really seemed like a good idea, come to think of it, keeping in mind the overly-nosy neighbors. With my brain still empty, I watched her looking around, inspecting her former territory in detail.
"My god, did you choose those cushions?"
"What?" Okay, my answers were still not overly impressive, but what could she have expected? This whole situation was not just surprising, it was bizarre.
"Have you bothered to clean up at all while I was away?"
I looked around. The apartment wasn't dirty, just lived in. The anal neat-freak no longer lived there, so I no longer had to live in a cold antiseptic home.
"My luggage is in my car. We can pick it up later." My brain still hardly worked at all, but I managed to register that she was acting in her usual self-assured way, which didn't seem to be totally appropriate, given the situation.
"Your hair..." I began. Well, it was a change from "What?"
"Yeah, I know. It will grow back in no time." Her hair had always fascinated me to no end. I was a bit shocked to see her with a stylish, but very short haircut. She was not my woman anymore, obviously, but it still hurt to see her without one of her most outstanding features. This was just not right. A crying shame, that was what it was.
"That will take five years at least." At least I was back to full sentences.
"We have plenty of time, honey." What? And what did she just call me?
"Honey?"
"Yeah, I know. You don't have to mention it. I acted strangely for a while there. But now I'm back. Everything is going to be all right." She smiled at me in a pleasant way, as if to reassure a child.
"Seriously?" That was her form of apology?
"Yes, baby." To my horror, she advanced on me and looked like she wanted to kiss me. Who was this woman, and was she totally out of her mind? She must have read my expression correctly because she stopped her advance and looked at me a bit surprised.
"I know, I know. You always liked my hair. But I felt like I needed some change in my life."
"Yeah, I noticed that."
"What? Oh, no, I was just talking about my hair. Otherwise, I want my life back to where it was. That includes you, obviously. Just in case you haven't noticed." She had the audacity to wink at me.
"So, Tom had no say in your new hairstyle?"
She winced very slightly. Anyone else would probably have missed it.
"Tom is in the past for good." Wow, the new love of her life sure didn't last long.
"So?"
"What?"
"So, Tom had no say in your new hairstyle?"
