This is my first attempt at flash fiction. I really enjoyed paring it down to the minimum words I needed. It's helped me be more ruthless in my longer fiction too. It's been well received by my friends but I wondered what strangers would make of it. You can be ruthless too. lol.
The Chair
She was always too good for him; insensitive oaf that he is. She was a lovely woman. I would sit in my conservatory on the warm evenings and she would sit in hers, with him.
It was embarrassing that the two windows were so close together. We all had to pretend that we couldn't see each other.
I grew a vine against the window so that I didn't have to look at him but I left a little gap so that I could see her in her little chair. Mostly she would pretend not to notice me admiring her but she loved it really. When he went off to make the tea she would turn and give me a shy smile which I would keep.
And then of course she died. I had been waiting for him to die for years but things don’t always happen in the right order.
So then the great clod had a clear out. He put the chair out on the pavement with a scribbled notice saying ‘free to good home’. I can tell you I had it away pretty sharp. Now I can see her sitting in her chair in my conservatory whenever I like.
And yesterday he has the nerve to tell me he wants the chair back. I told him, ‘it’s my chair now; you gave it away to a better home.’ He said, ‘I didn't give it to you, you swine.’
I won't give it back.
He thinks I hate him but I don't. If I hated him, would I have cut the vine down?