The Unicorn Challenge.
A magical new weekly writing opportunity from her – Jenne Gray – and me.
Visit her blog every Friday to see the photo prompt, and post your amazing story in her comments section.
Or on your own blog, and stick the link down in her comments.
The rules are:
Maximum of 250 words.
Based on photo prompt.
That’s it.
To hear me read my story, just click here:
The Anniversary
I pull a newspaper from my bag and glance at the front page.
The date jolts me upright.
November 24, 2023.
My mind leaps unbidden to that day ten years earlier.
The day which changed my life abruptly and permanently…
‘It’s in the pocket of my leather jacket,’ I call through to her.
A second before remembering what else is in that pocket.
I hear the silence which lasts throughout the evening.
The evening of our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration party.
Almost 200 guests, suspecting nothing.
I was the front man in the business, the one who did the sales, the client contact, the work.
She was the financial brain behind me.
The one with the old family contacts.
The one who opened the doors.
She took everything.
She destroyed me and my reputation…
It has been a downward spiral since then.
I’m an outcast in this tight community, a city small enough that everyone in our line of business knows everyone else.
Including her.
And, of course, her family.
I regret my stupidity, my crass, moronic stupidity, every second of my life.
I still love her, still think of her every day.
But there’s no way back.
Never has been.
I sigh as I lie back down on the bench, sliding the bag under my head.
I tuck the newspaper inside my trousers and jacket, and shiver.
It’s going to be another long, cold night.






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Sad, but so true to life.
Well done.
It’s kinda on a par with your own piece this week on the chuckle scale, Dawn!
Thanks for commenting.
I thought that as well.
Great minds and all. 😉
Poor man. A moment of forgetfulness and he’s undone – although obviously there had been an earlier indiscretion to cause the whole thing. I like the switch from the everyday comment about his pocket contents through the silence of the anniversary party to the chaos afterwards. Another cold night indeed on his 35th anniversary.
You are more sympathetic than he might deserve, Margaret, which reflects well on your compassionate nature.
A sad and lonely man’s tale.
She couldn’t have been Sicilian;
it sounds like you’re still in one piece.
I think her punishment is much worse than mere death, Nancy
You’re probably right.
Did he deserve to be cast aside? I suspect he did but I guess we’ll never really know. An intriguing tale, well told.
What we deserve and what we get are not always the same, are they?
Thanks, bud
In a telling this rich, it’s the starkest detail that stands out most strongly. Fabulous!
Lovely comment, Liz, much appreciated
I won’t judge him until I know what was inside his pocket.
Now, now, dear Lady, judge not less you be judged and stuff like that, remember?
But I’ll whisper the truth, if you like…
I like sweet whispered nothings.
warmed by the rough clothe of deserved regret
‘cellent fictionette, yo
[From my student-of-the-craft POV, the best part is the most-spare part/give us Readers a stake in the action sentence:
“A second before remembering what else is in that pocket.“]
‘warmed by the rough clothe of deserved regret’
Great line there, Clark, is it your own?
And I’m pleased you picked out the key sentence in my story, I like it a lot too!
We don’t need to know what it is he’s done. He’s doing his cold, cold penance for it now. Cheat where you like but never on the person running the financial side…
You make me laugh with your cynicism, Sandra, when I know what a sweet lady you are!
Ah, the rage of a woman scorned. Bee there, done that, got the scars to prove it. Brave piece, CE.
Sometimes it takes so little, Doug, and sometimes it’s well deserved!
Cheers
Ouch indeed. Well done!
Laughing. Thanks, Chris!
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Ouch, that hurt.
And just goes to show how few details are needed to convey catastrophe.
A masterclass in sound bite fiction.
Bit of a bitch though, eh?
Life sometimes is, Jenne!